


Seven Nights at the Sky View Inn

by madcowmama



Category: The 100, doctor mechanic - Fandom
Genre: Caribbean AU, Clexa are there too, F/F, It’s so fluffy!!, NSFW, What happens when you're literally building a home for yourself and your found family, doctor mechanic, oh hey it happened now it's
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-13
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2018-10-31 09:25:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 25,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10896435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madcowmama/pseuds/madcowmama
Summary: Raven's rebuilding a hurricane-damaged derelict hotel and Abby is her first guest.





	1. Sunday

The drop of sweat started at her hairline, gathered momentum and volume as it coursed down the center of her nose, and hung at the end for a moment before dropping two stories—

—onto the doctor’s forehead.

“Is—this—the Sky View Inn?” Abby asked, wiping their mingled sweat off her face.

“It will be,” called Raven, kicking her feet out and using her gloved hands to slide down the ladder. She turned, removing one glove and extending her hand. “Hi,” she said, “I’m Raven.”

“Abby, Dr. Griffin. I have a reservation?”

Raven smiled.

“But call me Abby.” Between the heat and the breeze, the unexpected un-done-ness of the hotel and Raven’s smile, her worn jeans and dirty white v-neck with rolled up sleeves, Abby found her mouth unusually dry. “Can I buy a bottle of water?”

“Nope, but I’ll buy you one,” said Raven, “Come inside.”

“There’s an inside?”

“Yeah, I started on the far corner. Follow me.”

They crossed through the concrete skeleton of what once was—or once was intended to be—a two-story courtyard hotel—or apartment building, it wasn’t complete enough to be clear. They stepped inside the finished part.

Inside, at the far corner, stood a tiny bell desk on one side of a partition and a tiny bar on the other. A ceiling fan vaguely stirred the potted palm fronds.

“This is temporary,” Raven said, indicating the makeshift reception area. “But my unit is just there, and the unit above is the one on AirBnB. One bottle of water, ma’am. Nice and cold.”

The bottle frosted, and as the doctor held it, sweat rolled down its side, as her own beaded and flowed. She downed the water, eyes closed, and opened them on Raven’s smiling appraisal.

“Raven, what is this place?”

“I don’t know you well enough yet,” Raven teased, “Just sign in, and I’ll show you to your room. Bags?”

“Hmmm, old school sign-in?” Abby shook her head. “Just the knapsack. Not planning on formal dining,” murmured Abby.

Raven took the knapsack and led the way up the steel spiral staircase. She keyed open the door—also old school—and placed Abby's daypack on the bed next to the towel sculpture.

“What is that?” said Abby.

“A turtle, obviously,” Raven replied. It wasn’t. It was a platypus, but Raven’s handiness did not extend to towel sculptures. She’d like to get hold of whoever started the expectation of towel sculptures in the first place.

“Will you be joining me for dinner?”

“I’d love to,” said Abby, “when, where, and what’s on the menu?”

“Six, al fresco, includes a tour, tour meets in our beautiful courtyard, and… uh… barbecue pork tacos. And… tequila? All-inclusive.”

“Margaritas? Sure. Frozen or on the rocks?”

“You’re kidding, right? Shaken, not whirred.”

“It sounds perfect. I’ll see you in the—courtyard—at six.” Abby reached into her pocket.

Raven shook her head, saying, “All-inclusive,” and backed out of the room, striking her arm on the doorjamb. She swallowed her expletive hard.

“Are you okay?” asked Abby from the other side of the door.

“Yep, yep, yes I am,” said Raven, working her jaw and rubbing her elbow. Then, making certain that nobody could see her, she smacked the back of her hand against her forehead. She headed back to familiar territory, pulling herself up the ladder with her arms and one leg, to work on the upper front room for a bit until it was time to wash up and ready dinner.

Raven hated hanging wallboard with the kind of passion reserved for soulmates or arch-enemies. Ceilings even more so. So she’d taken a page from her ship’s mechanic days and had fashioned narrow, lightweight, soundproof panels from salvaged aluminum, sound barrier sheets, and rigid foam that she could install with just a few screws. She installed a few in the ceiling of the second-floor unit that she’d been working on when the doctor had arrived.

She wondered if it had been a good idea to let out rooms before the entire building was complete. The doctor was clearly accustomed to more comfortable surroundings, but she also seemed very willing to go along. Raven appreciated her flexibility.

When she had finished installing the remaining ceiling panels in room 210, Raven climbed down the ladder to the outdoor shower, stripped to her bikini, showered, and dressed for dinner—cutoffs and a tank top. She grilled the pork and packed the picnic basket just in time to meet Abby, who—

— _wow_.

 _But never mind that_ , Raven reminded herself. The doctor being her first BnB customer, Raven needed to be professional.

“ _Buenas tardes_ ,” Raven said, smiling, strictly business.

“ _Buenas tardes_.” Abby’s grin lit up the courtyard like the sunset sky above.

“I thought you might like a little ocean view with your dinner on your first night. I call it the Sky View for a reason, but we have a small beach access easement with Luna’s Seaview across the road.”

Abby’s eyes crinkled, and she nodded. “Let me take something,” she said, reaching out.

Raven shook her head. “All-inclusive, remember?”

“I’m a doctor. Helping is what I do.”

“You’re on vacation.”

Abby stood with one arm extended and the other akimbo. She opened and closed her outstretched hand. Raven opened and closed her mouth, then shrugged and handed Abby the blanket.

“Let’s go, then,” she said. “Careful crossing, though, people drive like maniacs here—even though they’re on island time.”

Abby nodded. They crossed.

“That’s it. That’s the tour,” said Raven.

Abby brought her empty hand to her mouth, but the lines by her eyes revealed her amusement.

Abby waited until they had spread the blanket out on the sand and laid out the food to ask, “Island time? Is that why the Sky View is expanding one room at a time?”

Raven laughed. “No,” she said, serving Abby. “ _Barbacoa tacos, guacamole, y—margherita simple_.”

“ _Salud_.” Abby raised her glass.

“ _Salud_ ,” Raven toasted—and drained half the glass. _What_?

Abby noticed, but sipped a bit, then bit into one of her tacos. “Umph… this is delicious,” she gasped between bites.

“Glad you like it, cuz I can grill but not a lot else,” said Raven.

“You can build a hotel from scratch.”

“Nah, I'm just doing the easy part.”

Abby softly smiled.

They faced west, toward the setting sun, as the sky filled with orange and pink. The waves surged and receded, filling the silence as they ate. At last, Abby turned toward Raven and waited.

“We don’t often get people traveling alone here,” said Raven, after a few moments, not looking at her.

“I imagine not.”

Surf intervened as a few pink clouds pointed at some far off vanishing point. Raven let the doctor sink into her thoughts.

_Since high school, Raven’s crew had talked about wanting to buy a big place and live together. They had seen what was going on. There was no way in hell any of them would be able to afford a house—or even an apartment—anywhere they would want to live. And Raven—having bounced between distant relatives while her mom was drying out, or in jail, or on a bender—for her, the dream had provided a focal point, for years._

_And when she’d seen the hurricane-ravaged concrete skeleton of a building—again and again as her ship made stops in Cozumel—she promised herself she would find out what it would take to buy and fix that funky property._

_What it took was a buttload of ships’ contracts, eating shitty food, working shitty hours, and sleeping in shitty quarters—better hours, work, and quarters than the food service crew, but considerably worse than the entertainment crew, and infinitely worse than the headliners._

_Finn was a headliner, a juggling comedian, and one of the youngest to make headliner. And everybody was working and drinking and fucking themselves—and each other—into oblivion, to handle the work and the food and the quarters. Why not fuck the guy with the best quarters? Problem with that was falling for him._

_While he fell for that blonde passenger._

“He died.”

“He died?”

“Yes, my husband died a year ago this week. That’s why I’m here alone.”

“I—I’m so sorry, I—”

“It’s okay. I mean it’s not okay, but I’m beginning to get used to it. I guess. Anyway…”

“Anyway..?”

“I should help clean up and let you get on with your night.”

“No, Abby, relax. It’s a big deal to lose someone you love. And anniversaries can really—suck—so… be comfortable, relax, hang out with me if you want, or don’t, whatever feels right, and—I don’t know, do what you need to.”

Abby smiled. “Let’s just sit for a bit.”

“All right.”

“Then I’ll help you clean up.”

Pink and orange crawled across the sky, and the clouds broke up a little into fish scales.

“‘Mackerel sky, mackerel sky, little bit wet, little bit dry’,” quoth the Raven.

“Looks like salmon to me,” said Abby.

“Yeah, it does.”

The wind picked up a little across the beach. Raven, moving slowly, picked up the picnic and put it in the basket.

Then, without asking, she unfurled a second, thinner, blanket that had been tucked into the basket’s lid. She tucked it around Abby as Abby’s hair whipped about her face.

Their eyes met, Abby’s glassy, Raven’s soft.

“Thank you,” said Abby, barely audible above the waves.

Raven just smiled and sat back down next to her.

_Finn would arrive mid-week one week and leave mid-week the next, so the cruise line would get a comedian for two cruises but only paid him for one week. He stayed in a suite, above the waterline, with a balcony. He was cute and charming and one of the few comedians who was actually funny. He saw past her jumpsuit and the smudges on her face and sought her out belowdecks after her shift._

_It was easy to say yes, especially when one of her roommates had hung a sock on the doorknob._

_So, he’d be on the ship and gone, on the ship and gone. Easy to keep it light and fun. He’d bring her drinks and order room service—fucking filet mignon—but they couldn’t go out together because of crew rules. And because of the hours she had to keep. And of all the guys—and gals—she’d slept with, he was one she could actually sleep with._

_Until he met—her._

“You’re shivering,” said Abby, “Here, there’s plenty,” and she draped part of the blanket over Raven.

Raven startled. “Oh, ha, you’re very kind, I couldn’t poss—”

“Hush.”

And they stayed there in the breeze until a squall started pelting them with raindrops.

“We should go in,” said Raven, and she stood. Abby took the blanket they’d been sitting under and folded it precisely. Raven motioned for her to go upwind. She picked up the blanket they’d been sitting on and started shaking it just as the wind shifted and blew the sand right into their faces.

“Of fucking course,” sputtered Raven, “Shit shit shit! Story of my life!” trying to brush the sand off Abby’s face with a corner of the offending blanket, “Oh my god, I’m so sorry!”

Abby carefully picked the sand out of the corners of her eyes. “Here, let me.”

She took the blanket from Raven, flicked the corner to knock any remaining grit off, and brushed off both their faces.

“Stand clear,” said Abby, and she repositioned herself upwind. Raven stood behind her. Abby held the blanket out at arms’ length and shimmied it until most of the sand fell off. “Close your eyes and mouth,” she warned. She shook the hell out of it.

Raven giggled, “you’re good at that!”

“Mad skills,” said Abby gravely, “from years of experience,” the corners of her mouth unsure whether to turn up or down. She folded the blanket. “So many, many years.”

Raven laughed out loud at that.

Abby stopped suddenly. “What?”

“Why are you acting like you’re old?”

“Old enough to be your mother.” Abby shrugged.

“Nope, I refuse to believe it. Besides, my mother’s not allowed at the Sky View.”

“So glad I’m not your mother.”

“Me too.”

They crossed back over the road.

“One day, I’ll have a little footbridge over here,” said Raven.

“I adore your ambition. You really are dauntless.”

“Wouldn’t go that far. But I do work for what I want.”

“And what is that?” Abby’s eyes crinkled.

“Bar’s open til 2. Come in, have a drink.” Raven tipped her head.

Abby hesitated.

“Or not. You’ve had a long day.”

That’s when the bottom dropped out of the clouds. In seconds, the downpour drenched them both. Abby squeezed her eyes shut. Her shoulders shook. She was— laughing?

Raven grabbed her free hand.

“Come on! It’s a flood! Let’s get to the Ark before it’s too late!”

They ran all out, all the way back to the bar, laughing.

“Actually,” said Abby, “I believe I will have a drink.”

Abby changed and Raven laid a fire.

“You’re soaked. Don't you want to change?”

Raven froze. _Change? Into what? Dry clothes. Dry clothes. Not a bad idea._

Raven smiled a crooked smile and nodded. It would be smart to get the grit out of her brace anyway. She took a few moments to decide but ended up with a dry version of what she’d been wearing. Just so she didn't call attention to the new outfit. And anyway, she didn't have the shorts and Hawaiian shirt with a golden nameplate uniform of the Caribbean. Thankfully.

When Raven returned, Abby had the fire blazing. She turned to Raven proudly, talking to someone on the phone.

Raven nodded and began making another pair of drinks.

Abby raised one finger and stepped out of the room, her voice dropping to a rough whisper.

Raven caught herself trying to eavesdrop, then tried not to. She proceeded to shake the everloving hell out of that margarita, drowning out the escalating voice in the courtyard.

When Abby returned, Raven was just planting the pink umbrellas into the salted glasses.

“You missed my bartender show,” said Raven.

Abby smiled, reaching for her glass.

“To the Sky View,” she said.

Raven blushed. “To the Sky View.”

They touched the rims of their glasses together and drank.

“Would you join me? In front of the fire I so handily lit?”

“That was supposed to be my job,” scolded Raven. Then she found she couldn't stop herself from smiling.

They sat together in silence for a few moments, staring at the fire.

“Was Hospitality something you always wanted?” said Abby.

“Hmmmm…” demurred Raven, “more like Home. A place to be home and give others a home.”

Abby smiled.

“Your profile said you worked on cruise ships for a decade.”

“You looked!”

Abby blushed.

“Mechanic. I’m really good at it. Paid better than Hotel or Retail. It was all eyes on the prize.”

“And this is the prize?”

“Haha, yes! Can’t you tell?”

Abby sank back into the sofa. “Pretty impressive.”

“Said the Doctor, who is considerably more impressive.”

“Yes, I am a doctor, and I’m good at it, but my family encouraged me and supported me. And I always had a home.”

“And your prize?”

Abby thought for a few moments.

“I guess— well, I guess I lost her… when I lost him.”

“Wow. Is it time for another?”

“One more. But then I must sleep. Are you going to do your bartender show for me?”

“I lied. I don’t have a bartender show.”

“You could have,” teased Abby.

“Not with this much tequila in me,” grinned Raven.

She made the drinks, and they toasted again and drank.

“Who’d you lose?” said Raven.

Abby smiled weakly. “Who’d _you_ lose?”

Raven sipped. “Never really had anyone to lose,” she said.

Rain poured down onto the metal roof, drowning the silence between them. In a few moments, the squall passed.

“I think you’re lying again.”

“Mmmm…”

“When my husband died, and it was very sudden, I just retreated. I crawled into myself. We could have clung together, my daughter and I, but really I just abandoned her. And she ended up leaving.”

“Just like a _telenovela_ , huh?”

“Almost exactly.”

“I had a boyfriend on the ship. For awhile. Then he fell for a pretty blonde.”

Abby took Raven’s hand.

“I have a very serious question for you,” Abby said.

Raven’s forehead creased. “Okay.”

“If I were to help you,” said Abby, “could we get another room ready? For my daughter?”

 


	2. Monday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abby and Raven start working on the room for Clarke.

"Come again?" asked Raven.

Abby smiled. "Come on," she said, "it'll be fun."

Raven tipped her head to one side and put on an attitude.

"What experience do you have? Like with construction?"

"Many, many years ago, when I was in college, I could pay tuition for the year on a summer's work. Which I did. In construction. So... four years. Four summers. So like a year. Many, many years ago. Also a month with Habitat for Humanity, so."

"Again with the many many," said Raven.

"Well," said Abby, "what do you think?"

"This is for the daughter you lost?"

Abby nodded.

Raven raised her eyebrows. "Curiouser and curiouser," she said. "Why here? Why now?"

"Mmmm..."

"Abby."

"It's nearly midnight. We want to get an early start tomorrow, right? She'll be here Friday." Abby stood up from the couch and stayed there feeling the alcohol for a moment, just to prepare to go up those stairs. Raven did not water her tequila. And those adorable steel spiral stairs were just a wee bit steep. But there was no way Abby was going to let those adorable stairs—

Raven couldn't stifle a giggle.

"Are you laughing at me?"

"I am laughing... with you." And Raven giggled again.

"You stand up. Just see how you're doing."

"Oh, no. I'm waiting 'til you go. I have to watch you go up those stairs." And then Raven heard her own words. She brought a hand to her mouth.

Now Abby snorted. It looked good on her. Great, even. "And now for the floor show."

"Stay off the floor, please. I'm understaffed."

"Good night, Raven."

"Good night, Doctor."

 

Abby managed the stairs far better than she had anticipated. She pulled the chain to start the ceiling fan. She dressed for bed and sat on it.

_Why here? Why now? Why had Clarke called her out of the blue? Months she'd been gone, on her own, doing who knows what, with the money Jake had left her._

_“Mom,” she'd said, and just let it hang there. And Abby couldn't help herself. She’d scolded her for staying away. Probably driving her away again._

_“Mom,” she’d said again, “it's time. I really—”she’d said, “I really miss you and— where are you?”_

_“Mexico?” Abby had responded, “I wanted to mark the anniversary, I guess— Where are you?”_

_“At the house,” she’d said. “I miss him so much. And you. And you’re not here.”_

_“I’m in Cozumel. It’s gorgeous.”_

_“The ashes are missing.”_

_“I have them.”_

_“Don’t you dare. Not without me.”_

_And that was that. Clarke was coming in four days._

Four days to put in the floor, finish out the bath, paint, add furniture. What else? _What had Abby been thinking?_

_Of herself, probably. Jake, maybe. Raven? And if Clarke needed her, she’d do what had to be done._

There was a knock at the door.

“Abby? You okay?”

Abby opened the door. “Yes, of course, why?”

“Just— drink some water?” Raven handed her a large, cold bottle.

Abby’s eyes crinkled, bringing color to Raven’s cheeks. “I will, thank you.”

Raven shifted from foot to foot. “Were you serious?”

“Yes, of course I was serious. I’m a doctor. Serious as a heart attack.”

“This was supposed to be a vacation, though.”

“Raven,” Abby said, laying a hand on her shoulder, “it’s just my daughter. As far as I know, she’s been going from youth hostel to youth hostel for nearly a year. Working together, we can get it at least to that state in four days.”

“Nobody is ever ‘just’ a daughter. You can’t snow me.”

Abby looked away, and before she took her hand away, Raven clapped hers over it.

“Well, bright and early, yeah?” Raven squeezed and released Abby’s hand.

“Good night, Raven.”

“Good night.”

Abby closed the door and leaned on it for a moment. She opened the water bottle and took a long drink. The room was warm. It wasn’t just her. But suddenly sweat swamped her eyebrows and coursed down her cheeks. It stung her eyes, which, she noticed, were weeping. _How I miss him._ And even though that grief, that awful stake in her heart, even though it remained and ached, even so, this was the first day in hundreds she had genuinely laughed.

She had genuinely wanted to do something, outside of her job, something for somebody else, somebody she didn’t even know, a stranger.

She drained the bottle. And took a couple aspirin, just in case. She toweled off the sweat and lay on top of the covers. _How did night sweats even know it was night?_ She got a fresh towel and lay on top of it. Breeze blew through the open windows, and the sound of the sea washed over her until she slept.

_“Wake up,” said Jake, “Wake up, Doctor Griffin.”_

_Abby blinked her way awake. His eyes made her smile. “We should get married,” he said. “We should get married today.”_

_“Jake, we already got married. We had a kid. We had careers. Now she’s grown, and you’re dead,” said Abby._

_“Yeah, I know,” he said. “Dumb joke, huh?”_

_“Bonehead move,” she said, “Dying. We could have been here together.”_

_“Ah, but we are.” He smiled a wicked smile. “And anyway, we were always too busy.”_

 

Morning brought early light, a light chill, and coffee.

“It’s not the crap they sell tourists,” said Raven, “Cream? Sugar?”

“Black,” said Abby.

“Of course,” said Raven. “There are pastries downstairs when you’re ready.” And she left.

The night’s clouds had blown over, leaving a clear blue sky. Abby showered briefly and dressed. She headed downstairs, noting that going down seemed more iffy than going up had.

“I can make eggs to order if you’d like,” said Raven.

“Uh no,” said Abby, “maybe just some toast?”

“No problem. Did you sleep okay? How’s your head?”

“I’m fine, fine.”

And they ate in genial silence, seagulls’ cries and surf filling the space between them. Abby filled her lungs with salty air, which cleared her head better even than the coffee. And then she zeroed in on Raven. Today they would work together. Abby’s ears warmed. And Raven caught her staring— but her face was soft.

Abby broke the stare and finished and stood and gathered her plate and Raven’s. “Ready?” she said.

“You’re not.”

“What?”

“Look,” said Raven, “I may be a small-time do-it-yourselfer, but you can’t work on my building in that. You have to at least have long pants and closed-toe shoes.”

 _Who brings pants and shoes to the Caribbean?_ Abby blinked.

“You can borrow some if you want.”

Abby smiled softly. “Okay.”

So Raven ducked out for a minute or two and brought jeans and a light button-down and boots. When Abby got them on, she caught sight of herself in her mirror and raised her eyebrows. _Not bad. Not bad at all._ The clothes fit almost as if they were her own. But they smelled different, _nice_.

_But anyway._

The ride to the hardware store in the open-air Rover did unspeakable things to Abby’s hair, things she couldn’t undo with her bare hands.

“Give me a hand?”

Raven reached into her back pocket. “How about a comb?”

“Room 210 is not going to finish itself,” Abby cracked, taking the comb anyway. She fixed her hair and braided it. She looked up to find Raven extending her hand toward her. Pinched between Raven’s fingers was a hair elastic. Raven smiled a crooked smile.

“You must be the girl with everything.”

“ _Be Prepared_ , that’s my motto.”

“Are you sure it’s not _Hakuna Matata_?” said Abby, and off they drove.

Painting was easy. Thankfully, Raven had already finished the horrible parts, the electrical and plumbing rough-in, the walls and the ceiling. Painting Abby could do, the precision, the touch, the smell created an almost meditative environment for her. Visually, she focused in on the painting itself, but her awareness expanded, little by little. She took in the sounds of the birds, the sounds of the air, the sounds of the water. Traffic. She could perceive Raven’s breath, her frustrations and pleasure as she herself sank into the process.

“Can you reach the—” Raven began, but Abby had already handed her the cleanup rag she was about to ask for.

They had started on opposite sides of the room, heading toward each other. Abby stepped back to check her work at the same time Raven did, but they didn’t collide. They stood back to back, less than an inch apart.

“It’s getting hot,” said Abby.

“Yeah, it does that. We can knock off for a couple hours. Most people do.”

They looked at each other and nodded. They wrapped the rollers in plastic and wiped up the drips.

Abby climbed down the ladder first and went to wash up. When Raven joined her in the lounge, Abby held out a cold bottle of water. Raven reached for the bottle, but Abby forgot, for a moment, to let go. Their eyes met. Abby realized what she was doing and rolled her eyes, releasing the bottle. They sat on the couch facing the fireplace.

“I never know anymore,” murmured Abby, “if it’s me that’s hot or everywhere.”

“Both,” said Raven, “both.”

Raven’s eyes closed. Abby found herself appreciating Raven’s eyebrows. Then she closed her eyes, too.

Midday heat rose up in the lounge, despite the fan, despite the open windows. The breeze dropped to nothing and the humidity became dense, almost solid. Abby opened her eyes to find Raven, boots off, curled up on the couch, her socks almost touching Abby’s leg. She drained the rest of her water, then removed her boots. Even though the sweat puddled in her bra, even though the heat weighed heavy on her hair, her lungs opened up. She breathed it all in. She put her feet up alongside Raven. And her eyes drifted shut again.

_“Abby,” he said, “Wake up, Honey.” She gazed into Jake’s eyes. He touched her cheek. He kissed her, then he was gone._

A cooler smell awakened Abby, not long after. The light had changed. Clouds hung overhead, and the breeze had picked up. She lay there a few moments, assessing the creakiness in her joints from napping on the couch. Trying not to disturb Raven, she moved her legs off the couch, but Raven took a waking breath and opened her eyes.

“It’s gonna rain. Smell it?”

“We should finish up, then,” said Abby.

“Floors tomorrow. Fixtures the next day,” said Raven, “I have some friends coming in on a ship. Lincoln and Octavia. They’re adorable and awesome. And freakishly strong. You’ll like them.”

Abby laced her boots up. There wasn’t much painting left, one wall, a closet, and the bath. Rain cooled and cleaned the air as they worked. It sprinkled, then it poured, then it spat, until it blew over. They finished in a couple hours.

“I’m beat. You must be beat,” said Abby. “Can I take you to dinner?”

Raven considered. “I know a place,” she mused.

 

Raven drove them a little way down the coastal highway, then surprised Abby by turning inland.

“It’s a family place,” she said.

They drove across the commercial district and deep into a residential area. The road narrowed, and someone had heaped gravel across the sidewalk. Single story houses, once brightly colored, lined the street. In the middle of the block, a bright orange building with a white sculpture in front caught Abby’s eye. Raven stopped in front.

“This is it. Best seafood on the island.”

Inside, most of the orange Formica dinette sets were filled— with locals and tourists alike. The furnishings reminded Abby of her mother’s kitchen— when she was about five.

“Hey, Ray,” said Raven to the proprietor.

“Hey, Rae!” he said back and wrapped his arms around her.

“This is my friend, Abby.”

“Pleased to meet you, Abby.”

He showed them to their table and gave them menus.

“I recommend the _camarones_ , any kind, or the _tortas—_ they’re only on the Spanish side of the menu,” said Raven, “The grouper is good, too.”

Ray returned, with margaritas. “On the house, ladies,” he said.

Abby raised her glass to him, and then to Raven. She sipped. It was heaven.

Raven watched for a moment, smiling at her pleasure, “I know, right? Wait 'til you taste the food.”

Abby went silent as she sampled the guacamole, the mole, the shrimp on a wire. Raven gave her a bite of her _torta_. Fresh, clean, familial smells and flavors filled her up, and she found her eyes inexplicably full.

“You okay?” said Raven.

“Yes, I am okay. More okay than I’ve been in a long time. Thank you.”

Homemade churros and licorice-flavored tequila capped the meal. These were not county fair churros. They had a delicate sweet cinnamon flavor and a texture like popovers or crullers, soft and moist and light. She closed her eyes.

“I know,” said Raven.

Abby opened her eyes and sipped.

“I thought I didn’t like licorice, but this— ” A light fizzy feeling started at the tip of her nose and traveled up to the top of her head.

 

They drove back to the beach and parked. A few clouds drifted about the moon.

“Feel like taking a walk?”

Abby nodded. “It’s pretty quiet, away from the ships.”

“Yeah,” said Raven, “here, you get both.”

“I live close to the water, but I never get time to just— be there.”

“I know what you mean,” said Raven. “I haven’t had an excuse to just come to the beach in months. Even when my friends are in port.”

“There’s always work to be done.”

“Always.”

“Hang on a second,” Abby said, using Raven’s shoulder for balance. She slipped off her sandals. “I just need to feel the wet— I mean the sand.”

They walked a little closer to the edge of the water, where the sand could squish between her toes. Raven took off her shoes, too. Then they went far enough that the water washed over their feet. Moonlight rippled across the water. Breeze ruffled Abby’s hair. She took it in. She took it all in. _How I’ve missed you, Jake. And I almost didn’t know it._

The breeze, the water, the sand. The salt air. She looked up. Raven, illuminated in moonlight.

“Exquisite,” Abby breathed, aloud. _Maybe Raven didn’t hear._

Maybe she did.

 

 

 

 


	3. Tuesday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a day on their knees, Abby takes Raven out.

Yes, the night sweltered. Yes, her stomach complained mildly. And yes, she couldn't sleep. Raven in just her tank and boxer briefs made her way to the kitchen for more water. Sweat paid no attention to her eyebrows and just flowed into her eyes, stinging.

When she opened the fridge, she heard a breath. Abby sat on the couch staring into the empty fireplace. So Raven took out two bottles of water. The fan thrummed overhead. Raven crossed over to Abby and handed her the water.

Abby looked up with empty eyes. As she took the bottle from Raven, the cloudiness blew over, and a tiny spark appeared. Abby patted the couch beside her.

“Couldn’t sleep?” asked Raven, sitting down.

Abby shook her head. “You?”

“Nah. Too hot.”

They sipped their water for a few moments. Abby looked back into the fireplace. Damp heat pressed Raven into the couch. She watched sweat drip down Abby’s face, flowing from line to line, swimming down the tear tracks. Abby reached up to wipe her face.

“I can’t imagine,” said Raven.

“You don't want to. I hope you never have to,” said Abby, “I mean, I’ve been living with this emptiness for a year. It doesn’t get easier. When I’m working I can nudge it aside for a time— but it always comes back.”

 _Raven knew loss. Hers had its own rhythm. It had its own timing, but that desolation— so familiar. Familiar as her own mother. And the loss that kept on— that’s it, it just kept on. Because her mother wasn’t dead, just missing. Even when she was in the same room. And sometimes she’d turned up out of the blue— needing Raven to take care of her, and— Raven just couldn’t. Not any more_.

Abby drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, her head down.

“I’m sorry. I’ve disturbed you,” Raven said, moving to go back to her room. But Abby caught her hand.

“You haven’t. I like your company,” she said.

Raven took a breath. “Me too. But I don't want to overstep, so—?”

“Stay,” said Abby, letting her go. “Tell me about The Sky View Inn.”

Raven settled back onto the couch and brought her feet up. She leaned against the arm and faced Abby.

“No story, really,” she said, “I just wanted a place I— and whichever of my friends wanted to— could call home. So what I could buy— after a boatload of ships’ contracts— was this shell. In Mexico.” She shrugged. “Keeps me occupied.”

“In an incredibly beautiful place.” Abby’s face warmed.

“It’s becoming home, a little at a time.”

“Home is good.”

“Yes. It is.”

Cooler air billowed through the windows, a prelude to a downpour. The palm fronds danced.

“Smell it?” asked Raven.

Abby nodded. “I didn’t know it rains so much here,” she said.

“I think it’s what made me fall in love with the place,” said Raven. “Otherwise it would be too hot.”

Abby’s face softened. “I like how you’re using the skeleton you have to make the life you want.”

Raven snorted. “Yeah, in more ways than one.” She lifted her braced leg.

A smile hit Abby’s eyes as one corner of her mouth slid down.

“What? This old thing? I’ve had it for years,” said Raven. “More than half my life, in fact,” she murmured.

Abby turned a little more toward Raven.

“A drunken accident, just stupid.”

“Were you driving?”

“No. My mom.”

Rain pattered through some neighboring trees. The ones that survived flexed in a storm. Raven liked that. The trees in the rain possessed the traits that had brought her here. Flexibility. Durability. Bending when circumstance called for it, but never to the breaking point. Raven took a breath.

“What’s she like?”

“Mmm? She? My daughter?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, I don’t even know any more. Headstrong. Stubborn. Driven. Stunning. She has Jake’s eyes. She got the best of both of us, really.”

“But it’s hard to be together?”

“Y’know how, if you knock out one of the legs on a three-legged stool, it just falls over? Without Jake—”

Raven exhaled. “I do know.”

Abby’s forehead creased. “Yes. I think you do.”

“I really, really need to get some sleep. The kids— Lincoln and Octavia— will only be here a few hours Wednesday, and I’ll need to feed them, so we should have the floor completely in before they dock Wednesday morning.”

“I get it. You’re abandoning me,” Abby teased.

“What? No! You should sleep, too.”

“I should.”

Abby stood and extended her hand to Raven. Raven took it and stood.

“Well. Good night,” said Abby.

“Sleep well.”

They faced each other, not six inches apart, and hovered there for several moments, until Raven stutter-stepped back.

“I gotta— I’m gonna—”

“Go to sleep, Honey.”

“Right. That’s the plan.”

 

Later, as she lay awake, Raven heard Abby’s footsteps on the stairs. A sudden chill washed through. On the ship, it had been normal to be in close quarters with everyone. The spaciousness up top was reserved for the passengers, but the crew— belowdecks everyone lived on top of everybody else. Nobody thought anything of it if people grasped hands or touched someone’s shoulder or—

Raven turned over again, trying to find the comfy spot. Tonight it remained elusive. Only one more day until her family arrived. And then another after they were gone until Abby’s family arrived.

And work to do in between. So why the stress? Maybe she just wasn’t cut out for Hospitality. She certainly hadn’t mastered it yet.

_What was that? Did Abby call?_

Raven found herself outside Abby’s door before she’d even thought about it.

“Abby?” She knocked softly. “Are you okay? I thought I heard something.”

“Just a minute,” called Abby.

The door opened, revealing Abby in shorts and a t-shirt. “Can’t sleep still?”

“I thought I heard you call.”

“No, but come in. If you’d like.”

Raven hesitated, then did as she was asked.

“I’m questioning my aptitude for Hospitality.”

“Oh?”

“I like you— like being around you— but I’ve never known a concierge who wanted to hang out with guests— with a particular guest— like, all the time.”

“You only have one guest, and you seem perfectly hospitable to me.”

“Is there anything you need? You know, to help you sleep, or—”

“No. I just miss him. You?”

“What, no. No. I’m good.”

“All right.”

“Yeah, I’m going now. Good night.”

“Good night, Raven.”

 

In the morning, or what passed for morning since it was still before noon, Abby brought Raven coffee.

“We have a floor to install, Sunshine. Let’s do the thing,” said Abby.

Raven just groaned and buried her head under a pillow.

“Up and at ‘em. I’ll have breakfast ready in a minute.”

Raven moved out from under the pillow and opened her eyes. Once they could focus, she noticed Abby in her work clothes. _Which alone was worth getting up for._

“Good, good. Be there in a sec.”

Abby left her to dress.

 

“Okay, it’s just scrambled eggs and bacon, plus homemade biscuits, just because I had to show off.”

“Totally worth getting up for,” said Raven, filling her plate. “Did you sleep?”

“Not much.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I just really want not to disappoint your friends.”

“I just really want not to disappoint your daughter.”

They shared a smile.

“Then eat up, and let’s get at it before it’s too hot.”

 

Once they had laid out the moisture barrier, Raven demonstrated snapping together the laminated flooring.

“A little rough on the knees, I’d say,” said Abby.

“True, but it’s pretty quick. Well, quicker than a lot of kinds of flooring, anyway. There are knee pads, if you’d like.”

They worked side-by-side through the hottest part of the day. Sun blared through the windows, but the heavy air clung to them. Raven set up an electric fan about a half hour in, and with periodic glasses of ice-cold water, they persevered. Then by the time the afternoon squall blew through, they wrapped up the largest part of the day’s job. As the sky clouded over, as the wind picked up, as the room cooled, Raven looked over at Abby. Abby looked back.

“I must look a hot mess,” said Abby.

“Hot, yes.”

Abby smiled. Raven blinked.

“Is it lemonade time yet?” said Raven.

“I was thinking margaritas. Maybe even frozen ones,” said Abby.

“Have to go to the tourist spots for that,” said Raven.

“Maybe later, then. May I take you to dinner?”

“Again? I think I’m supposed to make you dinner.”

“I think we make our own rules.”

“I’ll be back with some lemonade.” And Raven disappeared down the ladder.

 

The heat in her face met ice in her chest. _Was Abby— Could she—? Oh, this was so inappropriate. It had to stop._

But Raven didn’t want to stop. _Where the fuck were the lemons?_ _Right there, right where she’d put them. Right in front of her face._

Raven took out a clean rag, wet it, and wiped her face down. She breathed in. She breathed out. She finished making the lemonade and filled two glasses with ice. She put everything on a tray. _Hell, why not?_ _Go wild._ She put some cookies on the tray, too. She was about to head back up when Abby appeared in the doorway.

“I thought going up the ladder might be iffy with a tray.”

“I was going to take the stairs and walk around. Trust me.”

“I do, Raven.”

Raven put the tray down on the breakfast table and served the lemonade.

“Thank you,” said Abby, “Come sit down with me.”

Raven obeyed. And then noticed that she had. And then noticed that it felt fine.

“This is without question the best lemonade I’ve had,” said Abby. “This— is without question— the best vacation I’ve had— in a long, long time.”

Raven made a face. “You’re a doctor. I’m sure you’ve had better vacations than finishing out a room in a blown-out hotel on a hot island.”

Abby put down her glass. “Without question,” she said. She lay her hand, still cold from the glass, on Raven’s cheek. Raven stopped breathing.

Abby took her hand away, and Raven started breathing again.

“I’ve made you uncomfortable. I’m sorry.”

“No. Yes. I don’t know,” said Raven, “I—” _She didn’t want to fuck this up. Which was, by the way, fucked up. And the room was not finished. And she didn’t— she didn’t care._

And Raven set down her glass and picked up Abby’s hand and put it back on her cheek. “In a good way.”

“So, can I take you out tonight?”

“Yeah. Yes. It’s a date.”

“Good. It’s a date.” She took her hand off Raven, chugged the rest of her lemonade, and stood. “And now, drink up, we have some baseboards and a couple of room transitions to finish.”

“I’m the foreman. I get to say that. We have some baseboards and a couple of room transitions to finish.”

 

Raven’s chop saw made the baseboards go quickly. When they finished, they stood and admired their work.

“Do you think she’ll like it?” asked Raven.

“She has no choice. She’ll love it. I need a shower.”

Raven caught Abby’s hand. “Wait.” She pulled her in and wrapped her arms around her. Abby’s surprise rolled off her almost immediately. She wrapped her arms around Raven.

“This is nice,” said Raven.

“It is nice.”

“You smell incredible.”

“I’m sure I do. And that is why I need a shower.”

Raven let her go. And she went.

 _I am, without a doubt, completely and absolutely out of my mind,_ thought Raven. _What am I doing? She’ll be gone in a few days and—_

_And isn’t that what I do?_

But it had only been two days. And Abby had a life, a career, a family. Raven, although a long time do-it-yourselfer, had never thought of herself as a U-Hauler. Time to slow down. See what Abby had in mind. _Go along. Get along. Meet the daughter. Holy shit._

Definitely. Slow. The fuck. Down.

 

Luna’s Seaview provided a fine, if touristy, meal, and a fine, if touristy, frozen margarita. It did have a gorgeous view, and in a stroke of luck, nature really put on a show for them. Pink shimmered off more mackerel clouds, against a silvery sky.

“Salmon sky, salmon sky,” said Abby.

Raven raised one eyebrow. “Tuna. Cuz it's Tuesday.” And they laughed, as though they had known each other for years.

 

After coffee, after a serviceable but not stellar flan, they walked across the beach. Moonlight shimmered across the water. Raven snickered.

“What?” said Abby.

“This is just so cliché.”

“Just wait ’til you’re my age. Everything starts to feel cliché.”

“Oh, shut up!”

Abby just smiled. Their hands brushed together lightly. Then Abby took off.

“What are you doing?” called Raven.

“I need to get my feet wet!” Abby called back.

And then Abby started to take her top off.

_Raven had initially used a chair, crutches, and later, a cane and a long brace, because that’s all there were. But the brace was clumsy and bulky, and it just pissed her off. She spent hours and hours sketching, making prototypes, experimenting. And then she found a design for a short brace that worked for a lady with a similar condition. Raven had made some modifications, and it took a long time to get acclimated, but the new short brace took advantage of the fact that her knee still hinged and the bones in her lower leg were still supportive. With a lot of practice, she could walk, climb, and yes, run— kind of._

So she ran— kind of. By the time she caught up with Abby, Abby stood in her underwear with her toes in the surf. Beaming. _Which, well._

“What, not down to the skin?” said Raven. She’d noticed Abby liked a challenge.

“Do you need some help, Raven?” countered Abby.

“Never until you came along.”

“My pleasure.”

Abby helped Raven with her shirt and shorts.

“Can your brace go in the ocean?”

“Are you kidding? This motherfucker is carbon fiber. They make submersibles out of it. But only the really good ones.”

“Would you like to join me in the sea?”

“Skinny, sure.” And Raven made it so.

“Some would say so, some would say not,” said Abby, but she followed suit, unsuited, and strode into the waves.

The water was warm.

They swam out, just far enough that their feet lifted off the seafloor. Floating, weightless, here with Abby, among the stars, Raven lay back, closed her eyes, and breathed deeply. When she opened her eyes, there were Abby’s gazing back. Raven righted herself.

“This is perfect,” she said.

Abby smiled.

“Is it too soon?” asked Raven.

“I don’t know. But I don’t want it to be too late,” said Abby.

The salty sea buoyed them as they tangled their fingers together. And then, quite naturally, their lips.

“Perfect,” gasped Abby. All Raven could do was nod.

They paddled in slightly, so that their feet could touch bottom. And Raven’s hands curved around Abby’s back and made their way lower as again their lips met. Gentle waves bobbed them on and off the sandy seabed as their lips met and opened. The sea in their hair dripped down their faces as the tips of their tongues met. Raven opened her eyes.

“Abby, are you crying?” she whispered.

“What if I am?” Abby said.

“You’re perfect, that’s all.”

“I’m not, but kissing you might be. Wait, I’d better make sure the results are replicable.”

And she did. And they were.

The sea pulled them out a little, and kissing, weightless, smooth, one against the other, breasts and legs and arms and lips tangled, one, one with each other. One with the sea.

Only when a wave swamped them did they separate and come together and smile.

“I’m ready to go in,” said Raven.

“Works for me,” said Abby.

 

They showered in the courtyard, under the outdoor shower, pulling flotsam from each other’s hair.

“Chilly,” said Abby.

“I see,” said Raven, raising her eyebrows.

“So do I,” said Abby, lifting one of hers.

“Come to bed with me? I’ll warm you up.”

Abby caught her breath. Warm drops started from the sky.

“It is too soon, isn’t it? It’s okay, Abby. That’s fine.”

“Could I just— hold you— for a while? And then sneak off like a guilty teenager?”

Raven laughed. “Yeah, you can. But no guilt, okay? And if you decide you don’t want to sneak off, that’s okay, too.”

“Yes?”

“Yes.” Raven nodded. “Yes.”


	4. Wednesday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Octavia and Lincoln are ashore for the day.

She woke, early morning breezes brushing hair across her face. Her eyes blinked open, slow to recognize her surroundings. This was not Abby’s room. The hair in her face was not Abby’s hair. _Who is that beautiful golden man? And why is he carrying a toilet?_

“Goooooood morning, Sky View Inn!”

It was a girl, around Clarke’s age, maybe a bit younger, peering around the man, with a ceiling fan in her hands.

Raven, next to Abby, sat up, rubbing her eyes.

“Oh hey, O, Lincoln. Oh hey, you stayed.” Raven glowed.

“Oh. Uh… We’ll just put these in 210?” and Lincoln and Octavia disappeared.

“Guys, it’s okay! This is—”

But they were gone.

“This is awkward,” said Abby.

“What? No! They are totally fine. No big!”

“Raven,” Abby said, avoiding eye contact, “I’m not—” and then she looked at Raven.

“Hi,” said Raven.

“Good morning.”

Raven tipped her head to the side. Abby couldn’t help smiling.

“Let ‘em think what they think.”

“Breakfast in 10! Dining room or bed?” called Lincoln.

“We’ll meet you in there,” called Raven.

“Thank you,” said Abby. “Now I’m going to pretend none of this ever happened.”

“None?” Raven made a sad puppy face.

“I’m going to change.”

 

Abby closed her door behind her. She shucked her shorts and tank from last night and got in the shower. _Fixtures today, furnishings tomorrow. Dress for working._ Really, she needed to wash her work clothes, but she put them on again anyway. Brushing her hair out was another thing entirely. Letting it dry unbrushed had been a mistake. Collapsing onto Raven’s bed had been a mistake. And staying the night, that too.

 _But it was nice_.

But the sand— and the bed— and the salt— the water— and the moonlight— weightlessness— skin— the kissing— the holding and the comfort and the sense that everything, everything was going to be alright—

“Abby! Need help?”

And the friends. These were Raven’s family. And they weren’t going to pretend that anything didn’t happen. Not that anything did. Really.

_Except the naked kissing, except for that._

“Be right there— you can start without me!”

She put her hair back in a loose braid and easily clattered down the stairs.

 

“Hi, I’m Abby.” She smiled and reached out to them.

Octavia shook her hand. “Octavia, but Rae calls me O, so you can, too. This is Lincoln.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“These two knuckleheads are fitness instructors on the ship, hence their ridiculous buffitude,” said Raven, holding a plate out to Abby.

“They’re not the only ones,” said Abby.

“Awwww…” chorused the kids.

“You two need to spill and spill now,” said Octavia.

“Nothing to spill,” said Raven, her mouth twitching slightly.

“Tell, that’s your tell, Raven Rae-Rae Reyes! So tell.”

“Hypothermia.”

They all turned toward Abby.

“I got cold swimming last night, so.”

Raven blinked. Twice.

“Caribbean…” Lincoln sing-songed sotto voce.

O bit her lips.

Abby said, “I'm just— going to finish my food— which is delicious—”

“Thank you,” said Lincoln.

“Kids, kids, Abby is a guest. Respect the guest… ness?”

“Woah,” said O, “Raven flustered. Nice work, Abby.”

“Why, thank you,” said Abby.

Abby sneaked a look at Raven, who blushed and smiled.

“Well,” said Lincoln, “I have a toilet, shower, and sink to install.” He picked up his and Octavia’s plates and disappeared into the kitchen. He stuck his head back out. “Octavia, I could use a hand.”

“Yeah, be there in a minute.”

“O.”

“What? Oh. Oh.” And she also left.

Raven waited until they had tromped up the stairs to whisper, “Hypothermia?”

“Yes,” said Abby, “I’ve been frozen for a year.”

Raven laughed.

 

Octavia stood on the top of the step ladder, wiring the ceiling fan. Lincoln crouched in the bathroom with a flange and a wax ring.

“You all have so many skills,” Abby said, “How can I help?” She steadied the ladder.

“Perfect,” said O.

“Hang on, Lincoln,” said Raven, making a small adjustment, “There. Now just set it on here, and— bolt it down. I got the— “

And so it continued. Octavia finished with the fan and started installing the outlets. While Lincoln tightened up the bolts, Raven finished the water connection. Abby held the ladder when needed and handed them tools when asked. She brought them water and lemonade. She brought them sandwiches. She brought them beer. _She did the things she always did around younger people._

“Damn, look at me,” said Abby, smacking her forehead, “I’ve become the mom friend.”

“The _cool_ mom friend,” said Raven.

Abby stiffened.

“Hey,” said Raven softly. Abby smiled, but her forehead stayed creased. “Hey,” said Raven again, placing her hand on the small of Abby’s back. Abby shook her off.

The wind stilled— stillness took over the Inn, as if it were 20 past or 20 ‘til— Lincoln and Octavia stilled, Raven stilled, Abby stilled. Her eyes met Raven’s, and Abby flushed.

“I’m going to go clean some shrimp for the grill, okay?” she said.

“Yeah, we’re almost done here, I’ll be down in a minute.”

 _What the hell was she doing? What on earth could she be thinking, pretending she could fit in with these— these kids?_ Abby began tearing the legs and shells off the shrimp and thumbnailing the veins out. She’d never liked cleaning shrimp, but she loved grilled shrimp. She’d never liked feeling incompetent— she never had in the middle of trauma at the hospital— so she found something she could do. _She could do shrimp._ The shrimp had been in the freezer, so Abby’s fingers got colder and colder, stinging as she continued. However, as usual for her, each repetition of the action improved her efficiency. She was a shrimp-cleaning whirlwind.

“Ready for some help in here?” said Raven.

“It is all under control,” said Abby.

“Your fingers must be freezing. Let me do some. Give yourself a break,” said Raven, starting in anyway.

“Raven, I have it under control.”

Raven stopped. Looked at Abby. Abby continued cleaning shrimp— decidedly not looking at Raven.

“Abby.”

“Just tell me where there are some skewers and go fire up the grill, okay?”

“That drawer. And I’m on it. They think you’re awesome, by the way.”

“I think they are awesome, too, but Raven, I know I don’t fit in with your friends. Let’s just put the food together and get them back to their ship on time.”

Raven stared at her and then left the kitchen.

 

They had pulled a table into the courtyard.

“This is excellent, you guys,” said Lincoln, “though usually, the guests don’t do the cooking, Raven.”

“So I’m trying a different way of having a guest, so what.”

“I can’t wait 'til the new room is ours,” said Octavia, her mouth full. “Your daughter is lucky. What’s she like?”

“Oh, Clarke— tough, smart, sensitive. Stubborn. Would do pretty much anything for people she cares about— but watch out if you’re not one of them.”

Abby pulled out her phone and showed around a picture.

Raven blanched.

“Excuse me,” she said, rising. “I’ll be right back.”

Octavia watched Raven retreat to her unit. She looked at Lincoln.

“I think I’ve seen her somewhere before,” said Lincoln. “Ow! What?” Octavia had stomped his foot under the table.

“Octavia, tell me right now what I need to know,” growled Abby, looking at Raven’s door.

“Ugh. Love triangle.”

“Clarke? And Raven?” Abby pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Y’know? You should probably talk with Raven about it. And we— should get back to the ship,” said Lincoln. He stood. “Octavia, help me clear. Thank you so much, Abby. It’s been a real honor to meet you. She hasn’t talked about anyone the way she talks about you since—” He shrugged. “Just talk to her.”

They left Abby alone.

A breeze picked up as she watched them leave through the courtyard, through the gate. She sipped her beer. Fluffy clouds puffed across the sky. She sipped her beer until it was warm. Until the sky began to pink. She still had a mission. She still had four more nights. And Clarke was coming. And Raven was still in her room.

She wished she wasn’t.

She finished her beer. Tiny droplets began to spatter the patio around her. She picked up her dishes and took them to the sink. She steeled herself, then went to knock on Raven’s door.

But before she could, Raven opened it. They stared at each other for a few moments.

“Raven, would you come sit on the couch with me?”

Raven pressed her lips together, but she nodded. They moved into the sitting area and took opposite corners of the couch.

“Octavia mentioned a love triangle,” said Abby.

“Oh. My. God. O.”

“You were involved with Clarke? On the ship?”

“Whoa, Abby, whoa. Do you remember what I told you before?”

“Clarke— and I— are a different way of having a guest?”

“What? No! Abby. Do you remember I told you about my boyfriend? Finn? Falling for a pretty blonde? That’s the girl I saw on your phone. We didn’t even meet. I just knew her face— from a distance. I knew her name from the ship’s grapevine.”

“So her coming here is a very bad idea.”

“No. No. I just had a shock. This could be good. It could be fine. I’m fine. Did you see I was on my way out of my cave? I’m totally fine.”

“I don’t want to make this uncomfortable for you,” said Abby. “We could see if Luna’s has rooms.”

“Don’t do that,” said Raven. “Please don’t.”

Abby tipped her head. Outside, rain pounded the roof.

“Abby, last night— aside from the swimming, which was incredible—”

“And the kissing—” added Abby.

“Which was incredible— besides that, I slept better last night than I have since— I can remember. I like you. I like spending time with you. My friends like you. Abby, I don’t know what this is yet, but I’d like to find out. If you do.”

Abby’s eyes glazed. Was it too soon? _Jake, is it too soon?_ Abby took a breath.

“Clarke is joining me so we can scatter Jakes’s ashes.”

“The thought had occurred to me.”

“I’m anxious about Clarke— about Jake— about you— ”

“Like the way I get flustered when you do that thing with one eyebrow?”

Abby lifted one eyebrow. “What thing?”

“That thing.” Raven blew out a breath.

“Yes, like that. But Raven, you must know you’re not much older than she is. And she doesn’t even know I like women. She might take it hard.”

“I get it— You want to cool it.”

“I don’t,” said Abby, “I want you to meet my family. It’s terrifying.”

“So... We’re good?”

“There are a bunch of dishes to be washed, but yes, I hope so.”

“We have a dishwasher. It’s one of my best friends.”

“Does it like me, too?”

“Not as much as I do.”

Raven moved toward Abby. Abby moved toward Raven. Raven stopped.

“I used to sleep around on the ships— to pass the time, just so we’re clear. But not since Finn. Not since him. And I was careful.”

“If we’re going to try this, I’ll need exclusivity,” said Abby, “Which may be nuts, since I’m not here much longer. And one more thing,” she said, “I’m not your mom. I’m not your mom friend. I’m way more than that.”

“Agreed.” And Raven held her hand out. Abby shook it. And pulled Raven in to seal it.

“Wow,” said Raven, surfacing, “Way more.”

 

Soon after they cleaned up, Abby went back to her own room. She opened all the windows and put the fan on full. She ducked under a cool shower, then put on a tank top and some underwear. She lay on a dry towel on the bed. Waves of sweat poured out of her, although the wind had cooled the room considerably. She closed her eyes. She drew one breath deeply, then several more followed on their own. _Four more nights. What could possibly change in just four more nights? Then again, quite a lot had changed in the first three._

She stood and crossed to the dresser. From the bottom drawer, she pulled a cardboard box the size of a milk carton.

“What do you think?” she said, taking it back to the bed. She put it on the table next to her.

She summoned Jake in her mind, first his blue eyes, then his smile.

_“We had a good run,” he said._

_“We had a great run,” she said, “and I will never stop loving you.”_

_“I always want the best for you. I want you to be happy.”_

_He kissed her as she wept, then he was gone._

 

Abby opened her eyes. She put the ashes away. She made her way down the stairs and knocked softly at Raven’s door.

“Raven,” she said, “can I come in?”

Raven opened the door. “Can I kiss you?”

Abby nodded. “Can I hold you?”

Raven nodded. “Anything else?”

“Let’s see,” said Abby.

 


	5. Thursday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's just effin bliss guys.

Weightless. As Abby stepped in to her, Raven sensed herself becoming untethered to the world, and when their lips met, she could swear their edges blurred.

Without gravity, without time, without, for this moment, any connection to anyone or anything, they mapped each other, their lips traced what was possible, the risk and the fear, the promise, clinging like skydivers before pulling the ripcord.

A humid breeze disturbed Raven’s hair, bringing with it the smell of low tide, a threat of rain.

Raven noticed hands in her hair as Abby pulled enough away to gasp, “Yes.”

Like migrating birds, like electrons in an atom, like a school of moonfish, they merged and separated and merged again— never really apart, but part of a whole. All this took place between the door and the bed, perhaps ten feet, and yet—

They made it. Abby pressed Raven into the bed. “Hi,” Raven said.

“Hello,” said Abby.

Raven normally liked to start out on top, but Abby’s weight connected her back to the earth, to her sensations, to the truth between the two of them. _This was real, it was here, and it wasn’t going away._

“You smell incredible,” said Raven.

“I’ve heard that one before,” Abby waggled her eyebrows. “Would it be okay,” she said, “if I took your shirt off?”

“Yes.”

Abby reached around underneath Raven and pushed her shirt up to her armpits. Then she sat up, pulled Raven up, and scooped her shirt off. She settled Raven back onto the bed and took a moment to gaze at her.

“Raven,” she murmured, “You are so beautiful.”

“Damn right,” said Raven. _This,_ thought Raven _, this—_ and _Touch me touch me touch me—_ and _Is my skin on fire?_ and and and

“Would you object,” said Abby, “to my removing your bra?”

“I— would not—object,” breathed Raven, hard. And Abby removed it.

“I would very much like,” said Abby paused and tilted her head, thinking, “to feel your nipples— with my mouth.”

“Abby, _yes_ , you are making me crazy!”

“Just making sure,” said Abby with a crooked grin.

Time, on earth anyway, is supposed to be a constant, one second ticking by in the exact interval as the next, as the previous, as all the others. Seconds are finite, reliable. But now Raven experienced moments stretching out and compressing, out and back again, an accordion of time, as sensations concentrated in one part of her and surfaced in another. Abby’s tongue against her hardened nipple, Abby’s thumb in the crease of her hip, Abby’s hips between her thighs, punctuated with kisses— on her mouth, under her jaw, in the center of her throat, a nip under her breast, a thumb on the other nipple, heading down her body—

Going down seemed easy for Abby, like she’d been doing it all her life, not as if she’d taken a twenty-something year break, and when they locked eyes and Abby raised her eyebrows, Raven hissed, “Yes…”

Raven continued to shock herself, surrendering all control to this woman she’d met only a few days previous. Even Finn hadn’t felt right enough to yield herself to so completely. Abby unfastened Raven’s shorts and slid her fingers into the waistband. Raven drew her lips into her mouth and lifted her pelvis. Abby pulled the shorts and underwear past her butt and pressed her back into the bed.

“Brace on or off?” Abby asked softly.

“Off.”

And as though she’d practiced, Abby removed Raven’s brace, then slid her pants off. She kneeled between Raven’s knees and looked at her, all of her, and—

“God, you’re beautiful.”

Raven caught the glimmer, in the low light, of a tear tracking down Abby’s face.

“You okay?” she said.

Abby nodded vigorously, and another tear spilled over. “So very okay,” she whispered, running her thumbs along the dips of Raven’s hipbones and through the creases of her hip joints and alongside her outer lips. She hovered there, taking Raven in.

“You smell incredible,” Abby said.

Raven at any other moment might have said something, anything, to give herself some time and space, but at this moment, all she could do was take Abby’s head in both her hands and move her where she wanted her. Abby shifted Raven’s legs over her shoulders and teased, nipping, nibbling, stroking with tongue and fingertips, until Raven started riding hard, until Raven grabbed her wrist, grabbed her fingers and put them where she needed them. Abby didn’t need any convincing, thrusting, twisting, curling, playing Raven’s utterances like an instrument.

Raven grasped Abby’s hair in both hands, bucking into her mouth, into her fingers, until— until something inside her supernovaed, until she floated, weightless, until her skin plunged into the icy vastness of space.

Little by little she became aware of her body, her surroundings, Abby. She tugged Abby’s face toward her own. Abby released her and kissed the inside of her thigh, sending another charge through her, and crawled up her body to join their lips again. Raven smelled herself on Abby’s face, tasted herself in Abby’s mouth. She did smell incredible. Raven, for once, just wanted to lie there kissing Abby, Abby kissing her. Tracing Abby’s jaw, her cheekbones, the lines around her mouth, by her eyes, across her forehead, Raven marveled at Abby’s skill, her heart, her grace. _Was this what people were always going on and on about? Because this was nothing like Finn._

Abby’s thigh between her legs set her off again.

“Mmm… my turn,” Raven drawled.

“Take your time. I'm going to need a minute to recover, myself.” Abby smiled.

“Is this—”

“Shhh…”

Abby rolled off Raven and slipped an arm under her. She curled Raven close. Raven’s eyes closed, and her breathing slowed.

“I am gonna take you on such a ride,” Raven mumbled.

“In the morning, Honey,” murmured Abby.

“I want you to be happy,” Raven breathed out.

“Mmmm, I am happy, Raven,” murmured Abby. She kissed Raven’s hair as Raven tucked herself a little tighter into Abby. “You are delightful. You are delicious. You’re gorgeous, you’re strong. You’re smart, so smart. You’re a funny, sexy, awe-inspiring woman, and I’m so lucky to have you, right here, right now…”

Abby continued murmuring into Raven’s hair until Raven mumbled something unintelligible and her body gave way completely to sleep.

 

Raven woke to breeze and blue sky and palm shadows playing across her face. She found herself sprawled across Abby, their hair tangling together, Raven naked, Abby still in her tank and underwear. _Raven could almost believe in God again. This woman, this stunning person next to her— Was this—_ Desire ignited through her. _She just wanted to kiss Abby— but she wanted to let her sleep— and she wanted to watch her sleep. These wantings confused and delighted Raven._ She smiled. _First time for everything._

She propped herself up on her elbow. Abby had thrown off all the covers from herself but had left them on Raven. She lay on her back in patches of sunshine streaming in through the window, her legs apart, one arm over her eyes, breathing the breath of sleep.

“So beautiful,” said Raven.

Abby stirred. She took her arm off her face and turned away from Raven. Raven moved up behind her and tucked an arm around her.

“I’ve never met anyone like you,” Raven murmured. “Bright, buff, badass, all the B’s.”

Abby took in a sharp breath and turned.

“Hi,” said Raven.

“Hello.” Abby smiled.

“Sorry I woke you.”

“I’m not.”

They lay facing each other, noses not two inches apart. Raven kept finding her gaze shifting to Abby’s lips— and Abby’s gaze shifting to her own. Raven just kissed her, then just kissed her again— as if they’d been kissing each other good morning for years.

“Are you ready?”

Abby grinned, unsure. “For?”

“For the ride of your life, of course.”

“That’s a high bar.”

“I like a challenge,” said Raven.

“I like a cup of coffee and a toothbrush, myself.”

Raven kissed her in earnest then.

“Or,” said Abby, “you could give me the ride of my life. Kiss me again.”

Raven obliged. Raven took her time. Raven brought her hand to Abby’s jaw and kissed her some more.

Raven pulled a little apart to say, “Never wash, okay?” and dove in again. Abby pushed her off, laughing.

“What?”

She raised Abby’s tank and blew a raspberry on her belly. Abby howled with laughter. “Well, you’re right,” she gasped, laughing, “I’ve never had a ride like this!”

While Abby was holding her stomach, fending off the raspberries, Raven faked one way and took Abby’s shirt off. Well, partially off. Actually, Raven _ripped_ Abby’s shirt partially off, but, awkwardly, it stayed partially on. Abby convulsed in giggles.

“Try less, Raven, you’re gonna kill me.” And Abby laughed some more.

Raven re-arranged her leg, sat up, and pouted.

Abby quieted herself and smiled. “Come have fun with me. Come enjoy my body. Let me enjoy yours. Let me enjoy you.” Abby pulled the rest of her shirt over her head and removed her underwear. “Look. Here I am. This is all of me. Wanting you.”

Raven side-eyed Abby, then turned her head in a double-take. Her jaw fell open. Yes, Abby had existed in the field of gravity for longer than Raven, and yes, she had scars and laugh lines and stretch marks, but yes, all of Abby, all in the daylight, all of her shifted something in Raven. She blinked.

“There’s sweat in my eyes,” she couldn’t help uttering.

“It’s okay, Honey. It’s okay.”

Raven lay facing Abby and put her arm around her. She brought her face close and kissed her sweetly. She took Abby’s hand in hers and kissed each finger.

“I promise I won’t break,” whispered Abby.

“I might,” said Raven.

“Goofball.” Abby pulled Raven on top of her. “Let me feel you on me. I love the feel of your skin. I love the way you kiss me. I love the weight of you. I love your muscles.”

Raven kissed her then, and her body rebooted her mind, and she began to take Abby for a very nice ride indeed.

Abby clearly liked control, however, and after two or three times switching who was on top, Raven sat up— back on top— and just said, “Tell me what you want.”

“You,” Abby said, “I want my face between your legs and your face between mine.”

“But first—” and Raven slid her knee between Abby’s legs. She ran her nails up and down Abby’s skin. She nibbled Abby’s nipples with her lips until Abby was writhing.

Then, Raven scooted herself the other way up and offered herself to Abby. Abby started slowly. Raven took her cues and took her time and gave what she got and upped the stakes and wrapped her arms around Abby’s thighs and pressed Abby into her mouth and— and just loved her— just worshipped her— just zoned into the sensations of pleasuring and being pleasured by her and—

and—

and she came first but Abby stayed there so it was this long string of little shocks as Raven continued and— _what_? _What? Love? Did Raven say that out loud?_

And it was hard to get out of her head and keep going while the little shocks kept coming and Abby started bucking hard and those sounds kept getting louder and _holy shit someone out on the street was laughing_ and Raven put in a little extra twist and Abby shuddered hard and wrapped her arms around Raven and squeezed hard. Raven paused for breath and then dove in again and they both— they both—

Abby rolled Raven off, panting, “Come up here,” and Raven situated herself so she could hold Abby, and she kissed her face and kissed her hair and kissed her mouth again and—

“You smell incredible,” they said at once and laughed.

“I love you, Doctor Abigail Griffin,” said Raven. Then stopped breathing. Raven’s eyes got huge, and she clapped a hand over her mouth.

“That wasn’t supposed to happen,” she said through her fingers.

Abby took Raven’s hand away from her mouth. She nudged Raven’s face so she could look into her eyes. Raven blew out a breath.

“Easy. Easy.” Abby kissed Raven so softly, so sweetly, that Raven thought her eyes were going to start sweating again.

“Suddenly, I’m famished,” Raven whispered, “we have a lot to do before your— before Clarke gets here.”

“Ok,” said Abby, lifting an eyebrow, “Shall I leave my face unwashed?”

Raven considered. It might be nice getting a whiff of last night— and this morning— just in the course of their day. On the other hand, she pictured Abby embracing Clarke at the airport and Clarke—.

“NO,” she said. “We have a dozen places to go. Shower first, you cook, I’ll drive. We have until 4:00 tomorrow.”

“You don’t want to shower with me?”

“NO. We’ll never get going.”

“Wow, you say ‘no’ a lot.”

Abby rolled to get off the bed. Raven caught her and brought her back.

“Hey,” she said, holding Abby’s face in both her hands, stroking the corners of her mouth with her thumbs. Raven took Abby’s fingers to her lips and kissed them. She ran the pads of her fingers across Abby’s jaw, down her neck, across her clavicle. Raven gazed deeply into Abby’s eyes. _This woman,_ she thought _, this woman. Her skin, her face, her brightness, her steadiness, her playfulness, so open. Her perseverance through grief, her delight in joy—_

“I knew the moment you stood naked in the moonlight. I knew the moment you kissed me. I knew—-”

Abby kissed her. “That’s okay, Honey, we should get going.”

“Oh, I see how it is. It’s my fault we’re running behind.”

“All. Your. Fault,” Abby murmured between kisses, then gathered her clothes and walked naked to her room.

“You know people could see you, right?” called Raven.

Abby, already in the shower, didn’t answer. Raven got herself ready for a day of driving, haggling, and hauling furnishings for Clarke’s room.

Raven found herself simultaneously as relaxed and calm and as wound up as she’d ever been. She did her morning routine as always, but then she’d stop and double-check: _is this good enough? is this cute enough? could someone else smell Abby on her?_ And then she’d wind her mind back down, remembering: _she likes me how I am, she wants me as I am, all of me._

Abby made a quick breakfast of eggs, fruit, and toast. They finished and piled into the Rover with the top down.

Raven had her sources, wholesale, retail, salvage, and yard sale. The bed and frame were first, while they still had energy ( _while they could still function without melding_ ), then a chest and a couple of tables. Little stuff, if need be, could be put off until late afternoon, but they’d have to rig the pulley back up— through the window where they’d first met— to get the heavy stuff up to the second floor. Friday morning— or maybe before— they could install the window and be done.

And then pick up Clarke.

As if she felt the change in Raven’s body, Abby reached across and took Raven’s hand. Raven glanced up and caught Abby’s gaze. Abby’s expression was unguarded, relaxed, open.

“Abby, how are you even real? I'm not the love at first sight type—”

“At first sight?” Abby delight sparkled from her eyes.

Raven needed to get her eyes on the road.

“You know what I mean.”

Abby laughed.

Time moved fast and slow, the wanting to get today’s task done and the wanting to drop everything and go back to bed conflicting and colliding. They filled the Rover, took the furniture back, carried and muscled and hauled it up to the room, and drove out to fill the Rover again. The temperature rose steadily until midday, when it soared. Raven dripped sweat.

“Everybody’s gonna be closed until it rains, so.”

“So?” said Abby.

“I dunno, maybe a nap?”

“Maybe a shower?”

“Maybe a nap and then a shower?”

“Hydration break, first,” said Abby.

 

Considerably later, as the breeze picked up and drops began to patter against the palm fronds outside Raven’s window, the sweat started to dry on their bodies. Raven lay across the bed with Abby sprawled across her. Raven opened her eyes and took in a long breath.

 _How lucky I am_ , she thought, _how incredibly lucky._

Abby roused, as if she’d heard Raven’s thoughts, and looked up at her.

“Hi.” Abby smiled. “I can’t believe how lucky I am.”

Raven couldn’t keep the grin off her face.

“The problem with loving you,” she said, savoring the word, “is that suddenly I have zero chill and zero game.”

“Overrated.” Abby placed some kisses on Raven’s sternum. “Though I must admit the deflection is kind of adorable.”

“It’s raining.”

“Yes, exactly like that.” Abby’s eyes crinkled.

“My point is, we still have some work to do.”

“Yes, Foreman! But I need a cool shower first. Isn’t that what we discussed, ‘nap’ and shower?”

“My shower is salvage from a shipbuilder, so it’s small,” said Raven.

“Feel free to join me.” Abby peeled herself from Raven’s body, the heat and sweat having cemented them together.

Abby started to go.

“Shit!” cried Raven.

“Honey, what is it?”

“I can’t feel my leg,” said Raven.

Abby knelt next to her. “It’s okay, you’re okay,” she said, “Which one?”

Raven crooked an eyebrow, half-suppressing a grin. “Made ya look,” she said.

Abby stood and threw Raven’s brace at her. “I take it back. I’m showering alone.”

Raven laughed and then realized Abby really might do just that.

She braced up, grabbed clothes, and caught up to Abby as fast as she could. She stood at the closed door to Abby’s bathroom. She knocked.

“You don’t mess with the Doctor,” called Abby.

“Never again! I promise! I’m sorry!” said Raven, “Please, Abby?”

Abby, dripping wet, opened the door.

“Shower sex is overrated,” she said.

“I just want to—” Raven blinked. “I dunno, wash your hair? Touch you? Kiss you in the rain? Fuck, I’m ridiculous.”

“Come here,” said Abby, gathering her in.

Raven dropped her clothes.

Under the shower, Raven lathered shampoo in Abby’s hair. She gathered suds in her hands and washed Abby’s face, arms, hands. Her breasts, her belly. She gathered more and pulled her in close, wrapping her arms around her to smoothe suds up and down her back, and then lower. She washed Abby between her legs. Abby just let her. Abby put her face into the spray to rinse off, and when Raven straightened back up, she kissed her.

“You really are a marvel,” Abby murmured.

Raven smiled. “I’m awesome,” she said, “but you— I’m not sure I have the vocabulary—”

“Talk to me this way, then,” said Abby, pressing her lips against Raven’s lips, her body against Raven’s body. Then, keeping as much of their bodies in contact as possible, Abby washed Raven’s hair and Raven’s body, kissed her some more, and rinsed them both off. They kissed again, and they kissed some more.

“I hate to be a party-pooper—”

“But we should finish the job,” finished Abby, nodding.

They dried and dressed. And with frequent kisses and little touches, they went back to work.

 

The room, when they had finished, remained spare but functional. Queen bed, table, lamp, chair, chest, desk.

“Eventually this will be O and Lincoln’s room. They’ll dress it with weird martial arts stuff or whatever, but this’ll work for now— and I’m not charging you for it.”

“You most certainly are.”

“You already paid— with your sweat.” Raven cracked up.

“You can’t even keep a straight face,” said Abby.

“Window tonight or tomorrow?”

“Tonight, get it finished, then let’s eat.”

“In or out?” said Raven, crooking one side of her mouth.

“Both.” Abby lifted an eyebrow. “Both.”

 

The window was big and would have been an all-day job for just Raven— though she had done it before— but with Abby helping, Raven could focus on the small adjustments while Abby worked the pulley. Neither of them had to go up and down a ladder or stairs multiple times. At the last of it, Abby tied off the rope and climbed the ladder to steady it from outside.

Abby watched Raven finish the installation, sweat glistening on her face and arms, muscles tensing and releasing. The smudge on Raven’s face caught her eye, as did Raven’s concentrated attention. _Capability, brains, beauty. Maybe Abby had a type. Her skin ached from being separated from Raven by the glass. In just a few days she’d gone from enjoying her company, to flirting with her, to desiring her, to— what?_

 _“_ To loving you,” she said aloud.

“What? I can’t hear you.”

Abby looked up. Warmth fluttered through her chest while a chill washed over her skin.

Raven slid open the window and leaned her elbows on the sill. “You said something?”

“I said—” Abby took a moment to take it in. “I love you, Raven. I’ve fallen in love with you.”

Raven’s brow creased then, and her eyes unfocused, as if something in her head spun into an infinite loop.

“Raven?”

After a few moments too many, Raven shifted her eyes to Abby’s, but they remained perplexed. “What?” she barely uttered.

Abby took hold of Raven’s elbow. “I love you. Now help me in.”

Once Abby was inside, she took hold of Raven’s face and kissed her and kissed her again, murmuring “I love you” again and again until Raven’s beautiful brain restarted and that something inside shifted again, and she burned brighter than she ever had.

 


	6. Friday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke's arrival.

The circle of Abby’s past and the circle of her future slid inexorably into one another, unstoppable. Today, Clarke would drop out of the sky into the tiny idyll Abby had been creating with Raven. And tomorrow—

_“Tomorrow you scatter the ashes.”_

“Yes,” Abby said, aloud. Raven stirred beside her briefly, then settled back in under her arm.

_“I see you’re awake,” said Jake._

_“It’s been a long sleep,” thought Abby._

_“I like her,” he said, “She’s bright. And funny. And crazy about you.”_

_“I would accept no less,” thought Abby._

_“If you’re really lucky, she likes soccer, too.”_

_“Nobody but you rewatches ancient soccer matches.”_

_“Clarke does. Coaches do. Pros do.”_

_“Too bad about that knee.”_

_“I made an okay engineer.”_

_“You did. Do you think Clarke will like her?”_

_Jake laughed._

 

In sleep, all trace of sass evaporated from her face, defenses down. Anxiety, pain, discomfort—lifted. Raven awake was beautiful, but—here, sleeping—Abby sighed.  _How did this happen? And what do I call you?_

“Hi, I’m Raven,” she mumbled, then turned over.

Abby turned and wrapped an arm around Raven, pulling her close, and kissed her shoulder. She imagined Clarke coming down the stairs on the tarmac.  _This is Raven, our host—our hostess—our driver—guide—my friend? My girlfriend? My—_

Abby’s hand rose to her throat.  A chain around her neck held Jake’s ring.  _She’d continued wearing the ring on her finger for several months, until Callie, her closest friend, had taken her aside. “Abby,” she’d said, “He’s gone, Honey. He can’t come back.” So she’d strung the ring on a chain and worn it under her clothes ever since._

Raven had noticed it but hadn’t said anything. She hadn’t needed to.

“Who are you, Raven Reyes, proprietor and ship’s mechanic?” Abby said softly. “And who do you want to be?”

Abby could feel all along her body when Raven opened her eyes. Raven turned to face her, smiled, and kissed her.

“Hi, Beautiful.”

“Hello,” said Abby.

“Not even out of bed yet, and you’re stressing?”

“It’s kind of a big deal,” said Abby.

“What, seeing your estranged daughter? Scattering your dead husband’s ashes? Introducing me? Totally no big deal.”

Abby stiffened for a moment, then caught herself. “Well, Miss No Big Deal, Who Is a Really Fucking Big Deal To Me, how do you want me to introduce you to my estranged daughter? Jake already knows, so that’s  _no big deal_.”

Raven considered for a few moments. “I think you must introduce me as… your LUH-vuh.” Abby couldn’t stop herself from giggling. She imagined them in another time, in another place, but which one would wear the suit?

“Your Companion? Sugarbaby? Honeylamb? Date-mate? Girlfriend? Or, y’know, I have a name I’m quite attached to.”

“I want her to know—”

“Sweetheart, Bae, Boo, Squeeze, Shawty? Significant Other? Partner? Oh, I know—Fiancée?”

“Raven?”

“Well, you are awesome, and I really don’t want you to go, so…”

Abby went silent.

Raven took a breath. “I’m gonna go get some coffee. You want?”

Abby nodded, blinking.

Raven braced up, put on a button-down that just covered her butt, and went to the kitchen.

“I’m like Meryl Streep in  _Manhattan_ ,” Raven called, “I think you should come check it out. I can’t stand here like this all day.”

Abby’s feet hit the floor before she had a chance to consider. She drew on her clothes from last night and met Raven in the kitchen.

“Damn, you just missed it.”

“Oh, well, then, I’ll just go back to bed.” Abby turned to go.

Raven caught her hand and held it to her backside. “Here’s the alternate ending.”

“That was  _French Lieutenant’s Woman_ ,” said Abby.

“Woman, that’s how you can introduce me. I’m your Woman!” Raven said.

“If I bought a share of the Inn, could I be your Partner?”

Raven blinked.

“And we could lie in bed and have a Streep-a-thon? I have her whole catalog on DVD,” continued Abby, “They’re these silvery discs that—”

“You’re joking, right?”

“My interest in Meryl Streep movies is deep and extremely serious. Also, I want to see Sky View finished, and I want to—visit you—all the time.” Abby noticed the creases in Raven’s forehead deepening. “Do you have any orange juice? Because I could use a screwdriver right about now.”

“Morning drinking? Today’s gonna be fun.”

“No, I need to put a screwdriver through my temple. Can we start the day over?”

“Sure.” Raven handed Abby some coffee. “Can I be your girlfriend?”

Abby smiled. “I’d like that,” she said.

“I kinda like Flustered Abby.” Raven grinned as she kissed her.

“To whom might you be referring? There is no Flustered Abby, only Rock-Solid Abby.”

Raven raised her hands high enough to give Abby a peek, then wrapped her arms around her. She kissed Abby again and said in her ear, “It’s gonna be okay.”

“Flowers,” said Abby.

Raven pulled back and tipped her head, pinching her eyebrows together.

“For Clarke’s room. And maybe a little rug. A small refrigerator—a pitcher of ice water—or a bottle of tequila, a nice one—”

“Abby,” said Raven, “hang on.”

And she did. Abby hung onto Raven, shaking.

“It’s okay, I got you. But let’s sit down—wait, lemme get something on, be right back, okay?”

Abby nodded. When Raven had pulled on some clothes and they’d sat on the couch, Abby choked out, “I don’t even know if she likes tequila. I don’t even know if she drinks.”

“So, we’ll get lemons, make lemonade. Or limeade, we already have limes.”

Abby looked into Raven’s eyes.

“How are you so—How?”

Raven shrugged. “I’m awesome.”

 

Raven’s shower barely fit the two of them, clinging and soaping and rinsing, touching and kissing. Abby’s fingertips just needed to be in contact with Raven’s hip, Raven’s cheek, Raven’s hair. Abby relished how Raven became the ground to her electric anxiety. And Raven—Raven tripped across desire into comfort and back again.

Because she could. For once, she could.

They dried and dressed each other, Abby tracing Raven’s curves and angles as she settled Raven’s shirt and fastened her shorts. Raven turned to face her and kissed her, and kissed her again, grinning, and then Abby pulled away with her eyebrow raised. A little involuntary sound escaped Raven, driving Abby to close in then walk Raven back to the bed.

“No,” said Raven, “my turn,” and she went upstairs and selected clothes for Abby, brought them back down, and attempted to dress her, while Abby kept shifting a little so Raven’s hand would end up on her breast or between her legs or—

“Alright, you asked for it,” said Raven, pushing Abby back onto the bed. She kneeled before her, swept her arms under Abby’s legs and fixed her sight on her target, looming, swooping, zooming in slowly, trying with all her might to keep a straight face. She couldn’t.

Abby burst out laughing and pushed Raven just far enough away.

“What?” said Raven. “If you want sex, let’s have sex. If you wanna get dressed, let’s get you dressed. Either way, you gotta help. A little.”

“Maybe a little later in the afternoon?”

“Deal.”

 

Mostly to soothe Abby, they ventured out to pick up a few last-minute things for Clarke. Abby took her time dressing the room, placing and re-placing each item. She backed out of the room—and into Raven’s hand on her low back. Abby melted into it, sweat forming almost instantly between them.

“So, my beautiful girlfriend, are you ready for me to rock your world—one last time before she gets here?” Raven hummed into Abby’s ear.

Abby turned, looking from her eyes to her lips, then leaning their foreheads together.

“About that,” she said.

“Can we talk about it with our tongues super close?”

Abby nodded, and Raven pulled her back into the bedroom.

 

_Abby couldn’t think straight. She had a home, she had work, and friends, and—and—obligations. In two days she’d be returning to them. But if home was a feeling more than a place, here had become home. Her family was joining her here in her new home—ridiculous, since Raven hadn’t invited her to stay—yet if she wasn’t a person who took responsibility extremely seriously, Abby could have proposed already. Completely out of her mind._

“Hey, I’m right here. It’s impolite to daydream when someone’s about to go down on you.”

“I can't believe I’m leaving in two days.”

“Shhhhh. Right now we are pretending you aren’t.”

“Honey, I can’t do that.”

Raven shifted back alongside Abby and placed her hand firmly on Abby’s sternum.

“Well, then, stay here with me.”

And there it was.

Something about the weight of Raven’s hand on her chest just pressed the air right out of Abby. Moments passed.

“Raven, Honey—” she gasped, clasping Raven’s hand.

Raven interrupted, “Don’t say anything, not yet.”

Abby closed her mouth, listening.

“I know you have to go. I know. You have your whole life there, your work, your family, your home—”

“My home—”

“I know I just asked you to stay with me, but it came out—what I mean is, I know you need to go, but I’d like you to stay. To come back—”

“—is with you.”

“—whenever you want, as long as you want. Wait, what did you say?”

“You heard me,” said Abby, rolling Raven over and pinning her. She ran her thumbs over Raven’s eyebrows and across her lips. “I don't know how yet, but I want to be with you.”

Raven closed her eyes. “Say that again,” she said.

“I want. To be. With you.”

Raven drank it in.

“I’m ready to be here now. You?” Raven asked.

“I am.”

“Just for now, no pressure.”

“I love you.”

Raven gazed into Abby’s eyes, her face soft.

“I love you,” she whispered.

 

The rain started on their way to the airport, with the top down.

“Of course. Of fucking course,” said Raven. She parked and pulled the top up. She grabbed a towel out of the back, wiped down the seats, and got behind the wheel.

Abby was gone.

Or not, really. She stood on the other side of the Rover in the rain, sandals off, face to the sky. Raven got out of the car and went to her.

“Abby?”

Abby, water running through her hair and down her face, turned to Raven sheepishly.

“I needed to feel the—I needed to feel the wet earth,” she said.

Raven tipped her head to the side. “Is this like an anxiety thing?”

“It does ground me,” said Abby. “Raven, I can't predict what she'll do. I'm not even sure I can predict what I’ll do…”

“You’re having second thoughts.”

“No, I’m standing in the rain. Kiss me.”

Raven kissed her, and a bus passed them by, honking. Abby leaned her forehead against Raven’s.

 _A hundred, a thousand moments in her life with Clarke flowed through her. The first hello, exhausted and bloody, the last goodbye, exhausted, furious, grief-stricken. The best moments, the greatest pride Abby had had in Clarke, the worst, the fights, the missteps, and of course Jake’s death. Cast into the void by a drunk driver, not a quarter-mile from their house._ Abby leveled her breath. She gazed at Raven.

“Let’s do this,” said Abby.

They returned to the Rover dripping.

Abby looked over at Raven, who couldn’t quite stifle a giggle.

“I am so ready to meet your fam,” said Raven.

“Yes, I’ll introduce you as ‘Look What My Kitty Dragged In.’”

Raven gaped at her, scandalized. But not really.

“I dragged myself in, too,” Abby said agreeably.

“Wait,” said Raven, shifting into gear, “serious question: are you a cat person or a dog person?”

Abby thought a moment. “I like big cats and small bears.”

“You’re in luck, I’m a wolverine.”

 

Waiting, Abby rooted to the floor, every bone in alignment. Only her jaw worked, her lips thinning and relaxing. Raven moved closer, placing her hand on Abby’s back. Abby’s look held a ‘No,’ so Raven took a step away.

_Clarke, with her lion’s mane, at eleven stated with conviction that she would be the president. Or an artist. Maybe both._

_“I know you will,” Abby had said._

_At fifteen she’d been suspended for three days over an incident that had “disrupted the students who were interested in learning.” She’d stood silently in the commons with a Black Lives Matter placard, refusing to attend classes. Abby had rolled her eyes at the headmistress, turned to Clarke, and said, “I’m proud of you. Let’s get out of here.”_

_At seventeen, she’d spent a night in jail._

_Jake was smooth as usual, but Abby had had a rough day and blew up at Clarke._

“Mom!”

For a moment, Abby saw the lion-maned, blue-eyed little girl running toward her.

“Clarke!”

Surely Abby’s hair was still dripping down her face. Surely this child in her arms had become a stunning young woman. Surely Abby’s lungs would take breath back in, at any moment. But Clarke held on, squeezing tight. And Abby—Abby melted into it, indulging in Clarke’s rare display of affection. But just as quickly, Abby sensed—as she had for over two decades—Clarke’s need. Abby smoothed down Clarke’s hair and squeezed back just as tight and murmured into her neck, “Clarke, my Clarke, my Clarke, how I’ve missed you.”

“Mom,” Clarke breathed, and Abby’s child melted into her. Abby held her, held her up, contained and supported her as always. This girl, this woman, this stranger, this part of her.

People flowed around them as their moment stuck.

Raven waited until Abby and Clarke drew apart. She waited until Clarke looked at her.

“Hi, I’m Raven.” Raven extended her hand, and Clarke took it.

“I’m Clarke, hi.”

Clarke turned to a young woman, brunette, serious, with green eyes, standing behind her.

“Mom, Raven, this is Lexa.” She took a breath. “My fiancée.”

Abby’s breath stopped. Lexa started forward.

“I have been looking forward to meeting you, Dr. Griffin,” said Lexa.

“I—call me Abby.” But she still wasn’t really breathing.

Abby looked from Clarke to Lexa and back. She looked at Raven.

“The Rover is just outside,” said Raven, nodding her head toward the exit, “Do you have more luggage?”

Clarke and Lexa shook their heads.

 

Clarke stopped in her tracks when she saw the Rover. “This is yours? What is it? A ‘69? Damn. Can I drive?”

“You can drive?” said Abby. Clarke rolled her eyes.

“Yep, 1969 IIA Station Wagon,” Raven said, handing her the keys. “Found it in a junkyard. Been rehabbing it ever since.” The rain had stopped, so she took the top down again, then climbed into the front. Abby and Lexa climbed in back.

“My dad—He used to talk about going to Iceland and driving around it in a Land Rover,” said Clarke, “It never happened, but I studied Land Rovers and maps, almost went there in my mind.”  _She’d made herself flashcards, an entire blog just of Icelandic landscapes. She’d read as many of the sagas as she could find translated. She’d plotted out the entire trip, taking two months to drive the Ring Road while exploring and reading sagas aloud to each other._

“Until you came on your own,” said Lexa.

“How long have you two known each other?” said Raven.

“About six months,” said Clarke.

“Five months, three weeks, five days, and… fourteen hours,” said Lexa.

“Oh,” said Abby.

“So you’re a work in progress, like the Sky View Inn,” said Raven. “It’s just up here, on the left.”

“Oh,” said Clarke.

“Oh,” said Lexa.

“Give it a chance,” said Abby, “I sure don’t regret it.” And she glanced at Raven. Raven happened to turn and catch it. And Raven just—just loved her.

“In fact,” said Abby, “I might buy a share, if Raven will let me.”

Raven’s eyes got big, and her mouth dropped open. Then she checked herself. But not before Lexa made the connection.

“Oh,” said Lexa.

“What’s going on, Lexa?” said Clarke. “Let’s give it a chance.”

 

Lexa and Clarke looked around and at each other with their mouths open. It was—not exactly a pile of rubble, but—kind of a wreck.

Raven, as though nothing was amiss, had them sign in and escorted them to their room. “This is my unit, and up here—” they climbed the stairs— “is Abby’s room. I’ve been going one room at a time. Yours is the third one I’ve—we’ve—finished. Here we are.” Raven opened the door and took their bags in.

Lexa looked around, then nodded once. “I like it. It is good.”

“It is, Raven, you’ve done a great job.” Clarke smiled.

“Give credit to your mom,” said Raven, “she’s been the driving force. And the finishing touches.”

“I can imagine,” said Lexa.

 

Raven forced herself to walk—not run—to Abby’s room. Abby opened the door.

“Lexa’s figured us out. I don’t know how long you have.”

“I caught that. Smart girl.” Abby smiled. “I like her. Do you?”

“Not sure yet, but I can’t tell you how glad I am she’s not Finn.”

“Definitely not Finn.”

“Were you serious? About buying in?”

Abby nodded.

“Are you ‘a well-qualified buyer’?”

“You tell me.” And Abby pulled her close and melted right into her lips. Electricity buzzed up and down Raven's body. Abby laced her hands around Raven’s waist and shifted her nose to the other side.

She was about to go in again when someone knocked on the door.

“Mom?”

“Margaritas now? Or later?” murmured Raven.

“Oh, I think you can make them now,” said Abby, pulling away. She opened the door.

“Abby, could we take you out for dinner tonight? Perhaps Raven can give us some ideas?” asked Lexa. Clarke hovered behind her.

“You can take me out if you can take Raven out, too.”

“Then it’s a date,” said Clarke.

“I was just about to make some margaritas,” said Raven.

“I’d love to help,” said Clarke.

“Meet me downstairs. Be there in a minute.”

Abby closed the door when they were gone.

“Yikes,” said Raven, looking around, “I haven’t cleaned your room once this whole week.”

“Haven’t used it much,” Abby shrugged.

 

Side by side, working together, making something more people would enjoy, that was Raven’s favorite thing. Making a pitcher of margaritas wasn’t that different from finishing out a guest room. Clarke plunged in with slicing and juicing limes.

“Where do you keep your blender?” she asked.

“I make ‘em shaken,” said Raven. “But if you need a frozen one, we can go to Luna’s Seaview later. Gimme a few thin lime wheels, too.”

Raven measured, poured, tasted, and poured again. She tasted. She twisted her mouth, added just a little more lime juice, and tasted again.

“You ready for a big-girl margarita?”

Clarke smiled. “And fuck you very much.”

Raven filled the shaker with ice and poured the cocktail in. She shook it intensely. “Your mom thinks I should learn how to put on a bartender show.”

Clarke laughed. Raven poured for both of them, and they toasted each other.

“ _Skål_ ,” said Raven.

“ _Skál_ ,” said Clarke, lifting an eyebrow, tasting the drink. “Have you been to Iceland?”

“Nah, but I worked with a bunch of Norwegians when I was a ship’s mechanic.”

“You worked on a ship?”

“Ships, lots of ships, cruise ships actually. Why I ended up here.” Raven smiled.

“I went on a cruise last year.”

“I know, I remember. I was there.” Raven shrugged. “You probably didn’t notice me in my coveralls—I was belowdecks most passengers’ waking hours. But I couldn’t help but notice you. My boyfriend fell for you.”

Clarke looked to the side. She opened, then closed her mouth. She put her drink down.

“Finn.”

“Yeah.”

“Yikes.”

“Yeah.”

“He, like, stalked me online for a couple of months after the cruise. He’s cute, but—I was done.”

“Ugh, poor baby.”

“Him? Or me?”

“You, Clarke, duh. You know a ‘69 Land Rover when you see it. Nobody should ever feel stalked by anybody. That’s just gross.”

“I’m sorry I inadvertently stole your boyfriend.”

“Obviously, I didn’t need that kind of crap.”

“Well, if I’d known about you, I wouldn’t have gone out with him. I wish I had known.”

Abby trotted down the stairs. “What did I miss? The floor show?”

“I’m not sure I’m really a performer,” said Raven, “but I’d be happy to shake up a margarita for you.”

“I’d like that very much,” said Abby. Their eyes stayed on each other a moment too long.

“Apparently I stole Raven’s boyfriend last year,” said Clarke.

“Not really a big deal,” said Raven, “I’m seeing someone new.”

Abby’s breath caught.

“Cool,” said Clarke.

“It is,” said Raven.

 

Later, after Raven’s famous shaken margaritas, which might have been a mite strong, enough so that they decided to go to Luna’s because they didn’t have to drive, after the serviceable-but-touristy  _camarones_ , which Raven, tipsy, had asked for as “ _cascarones_ ” giggling, and some lightweight frozen margaritas, after a ridiculous amount of small talk and a few awkward pauses, and after some rich but not too terribly tasty flan, Clarke leaned back, laced her fingers behind her head, and asked, “When were you going to tell me?”

“Clarke,” Lexa warned, “tomorrow you bury your father.”

Raven blushed. Abby flushed. She should have said something sooner, she knew she should, but it never—after drinks, after dinner, after after after—after scattering the ashes—? Her throat closed, and even as she smiled, her eyes brimmed. She reached across the table and took Clarke’s hand.

“I’m going to the Ladies’, would you come with me, Clarke? Excuse us please, girls.”

Clarke stood, and Raven and Lexa watched their ladies walk away.

Lexa gave Raven a small smile. Otherwise, she stayed silent.

Raven shifted in her seat, her expression blank. She waited for Lexa to speak. Somehow, what Lexa might or might not say was very important to her.

Finally, Lexa said, “You fix things, all of you. You will work it out. But I think...” Lexa’s eyebrows pinched together ever so slightly. She took in a deep breath and nodded decisively to herself. “I think you need a plan.”

“Plan?”

“Yes, a business plan. You are a lovely and bright person, but I think Hospitality is not perhaps where your genius lies.”

 

“Clarke,” Abby said, washing up, laughing a little, even as her eyes spilled over, “I have loved your father for over twenty years, and can’t imagine ever not loving him, and you know I have loved you all your life, and I will love you for the rest of mine.” She took a breath. Clarke closed her eyes. Abby continued, “The fact is, I’ve spent this past year closed down so tight that I didn’t really see you drifting away until you were gone. I’m sorry for that. I’m not sorry for this. I love Raven.” She gathered herself again. “I promise you that I have enough room in my heart for you and Jake and Raven—and for Lexa.” Abby swiped her hand across her eyes.

“Hey,” said Clarke, wetting a paper towel, “you gotta little—” and she wiped whatever it was away. “I just wish you’d waited until after—”

“I love her, Clarke.” Abby shrugged, joyous and desolate at the same time. Clarke wrapped her arms around her mother and held her tight.

“I know,” said Clarke.

 

“Welcome back,” said Lexa.

“Took you long enough,” said Raven, “Is there a problem? With the food?”

Abby shook her head. “Hush.”

“Did you know Lexa is like a business maven? She has some thoughts about the Inn, and—”

Clarke and Lexa exchanged a look.

“I am tired,” said Lexa, “it has been a very long day. May I have the check?”

“I was going to get that,” said Raven.

“You are very hospitable, Raven, but your business sense is not your strong suit,” Lexa said with a wink.

Abby and Raven exchanged a glance.

“All yours, Babe,” said Raven to Lexa.


	7. Saturday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a storm.

Lightning. Then thunder. Momentarily, a deluge. Raven, already awakened by Abby’s thrashing, pulled the sheet around her. Last summer’s hurricanes had mostly missed Cozumel, but tremendous rains still upped her anxiety.

Ashes don’t scatter easily in the rain.

Carefully, she rolled over and dropped her legs over the side of the bed to sit up. She put on her brace and, in her boxers and t-shirt, made her way quietly to the kitchen.

The light by the sofa in the sitting room revealed Lexa. Her eyes met Raven’s.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

Lexa’s lips curved slightly.

Raven tipped her head to the side. “Lemme guess… snoring?”

“Snoring, yes.”

“Mine also has night sweats,” said Raven, grinning.

“I think I was not supposed to know either of those things.”

“Can I make you some hot chocolate?”

Lexa considered.

“I would like that very much.”

Raven heated the milk and added extra _Ibarra_ , just because. She chopped up the chocolate when it got soft, then whisked it smooth. She served up two cups and brought them over to Lexa.

Lexa raised her cup. “To being in the family way.”

Raven’s eyebrows popped up. “To… becoming family?”

“Of course,” said Lexa, “I misspoke.”

They sipped their cocoa as the rain continued.

“Mmm… cinnamon?” said Lexa.

Raven nodded.

“You are not from here?”

“I am not from here.” Raven’s eyes crinkled.

“You have… excuse me, but you have bought property here. You must hire local people. To renovate first, then to run your hotel. You then do only the things you like, and spread opportunity to your neighbors.”

“I don’t have that kind of cash, Sister. Sister-in-law. Daughter-in-law. Whatever.” Raven winced.

“You need investors. To get them, you need a plan. It could take a bit, but you can make it a concern.”

“Lexa, I’m not even sure I want to run a hotel. I just want to make a home. This seemed like a way.”

Lexa smiled and drew toward Raven. “Tell me about your home.”

Raven started, stopped, started again. She described her biological family— families— her dream of family— the family she’d found all on her own— and how they’d each have a unit and they’d let out the unclaimed rooms.

Lexa sipped and considered.

“That... can be a plan.” She thought some more. “Your family are your investors.”

“They don’t have that kind of scratch,” said Raven.

“What kind of scratch?” said Abby from the doorway.

“The kind to set her plan for the Inn into motion,” said Lexa.

Abby considered.

“Did we wake you?”

“What? No, honey. I was hot then cold…the storm…everything. But you know, once I sell the house, I'll have money.”

Raven shifted on the couch. Lexa, sensing discomfort, stood. “I should get back. Thank you for the chocolate,” she said, nodding to them with a half-smile as she left.

Raven’s face went tight. “We’ve only even known each other for a few days—”

Abby sat next to her. “Almost seven days,” she said.

“It’s not long.”

Abby smiled. “You’re right. Clearly I don’t know what I’m talking about. Pitch me.”

Raven hesitated, took a breath, started. The pitch must have been forming in her head, because the words, the figures, the craving, the shape of the dream poured out of her much as if it had all been trapped at the floodgates for months.

Abby nodded, smiling, drinking it in, washed over with the images of creating home, creating family, and in her mind filling in details, making a mental list of things to investigate further, like what it could take to open a clinic, provide service, expand community, inclusivity, make a place for herself in Raven’s family.

“It’s a beautiful dream, my love. Can I be part of it? Can I help make it real?”

Raven’s eyes narrowed. “Are you proposing? You don’t really—”

“Know you?”

Raven nodded, wan.

Abby pressed her lips together. “Y’know, I think I need to go for a run.” She turned and climbed the stairs.

“In this storm?” Raven stood, her mouth open. “It’s 3 am. Abby.”

Abby paused at the top and turned. “You really don’t know me, do you?” she said, disappearing into her room.

Raven grabbed some clothes and shoes. By the time she was dressed, Abby was sliding through the front gate. “Abby!” she called, but the wind stole her words away.

The window in Unit 210 opened. Clarke and Lexa looked out.

“Did she go for a run?” called Clarke.

Raven nodded, bereft. She held her palms out and shrugged.

“You must have pissed her off,” said Clarke, the voice of experience. “Give her fifteen to twenty minutes. She’ll be back.”

“Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck! FUCK!”

Raven slapped through the puddles in the courtyard and slammed through her door. _Stubborn. Ass. How dare she try to take over my dream, my home, my Inn? How dare she try to muscle into my family?_ Raven threw herself on the bed and screamed into her pillow. Sunday morning couldn’t come soon enough. _Just fly away_ , she thought, _just fly away to your perfect life and your perfect house and your perfect daughter and—_

She smelled coffee.

A soft knock sounded at the door.

“Raven?” said Clarke.

“It’s open,” Raven grumped, and when Clarke and Lexa had brought coffee in, “I apologize. I don’t usually have tantrums in front of guests. I don’t usually have tantrums. Or guests. Or feelings of any kind whatsoever. Y’know. In public.”

“My mom can be— compelling,” said Clarke.

The three of them sat on the bed with the coffee tray. There was no place else to sit. Raven noticed the extra mug.

“So she’s just blowing off steam?”

“Yeah, what happened?”

“I don’t even know. First, she was offering money, then wanting to be part of my family, then— I mean— we barely know each other— your father’s ashes aren’t even scattered yet—”

“Raven,” said Lexa.

Clarke rolled her eyes. “This is awkward for me, but— she’s already taken you into our family. It happens sometimes. Thelonius and Wells, Callie, Marcus and Bellamy, now Lexa—”

“Bellamy? Bellamy Blake? How many people are even named Bellamy?”

“We haven’t seen him in ages, but yeah, Bellamy Blake.”

Raven was careful to set her coffee down on the tray. She grasped her head in both hands, lights flashing behind her eyelids. _Breathe in on four, one, two, three, four; hold for seven, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven; breathe out on eight, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, fuck._

Bellamy Blake. Brother to Octavia Blake, commonly known as O. Betrothed of Lincoln. Member of the family. Fuck. Tendrils wrapped around her heart and lungs.

“Raven?” Abby pounded at the door. “Raven?”

Raven opened the door. Abby’s face froze.

“Clarke? Lexa? —I smell coffee.”

“Just the way you like it, Mom.” Clarke handed her a cup.

“I’d hug you, but—”

“You’re sopping, I noticed,” said Clarke.

“Clarke,” said Lexa, “we should go back.” And they did.

Abby and Raven watched the door close.

“Hey,” they said, together.

“I’m sorry,” they said simultaneously.

“You first,” together, again. And Abby couldn’t stop herself from smiling.

“One sec,” said Raven, and she brought dry towels from the bathroom. Abby shucked her wet clothes. Raven wrapped Abby in one towel and dried her hair with another.

“Come sit down,” she said. Then she moved the coffee tray and sat behind Abby, finger-combing through her hair.

“I should warn you,” said Raven, “the storm might make the scattering impossible. It really depends on the rain and gustiness.”

“I figured. Let’s just see how things are closer to noon.”

“Okay.”

“Can we talk about something else? Like you and me, for example?”

“I want to know you, Abby Griffin. I want to know every part of you.”

“Hmmm… okay. Boston Back Bay, daughter of a radiologist and a dermatologist. Windsor School, Radcliffe. Stanford Medical.”

“Had to get away?”

Abby nodded with a small, secret smile that made Raven’s heart skip. “Then I met Jake. Handsome, smart, wildly creative, but also very down-to-earth, nuts-and-bolts. After we’d dated like a week, he took me to Berkeley to meet his family. They just… his father wrapped his arms around me like he’d known me forever. His mom held my hand and gazed into my eyes. It delighted me and threw me for a loop, all at the same time. And I thought, _that’s_ my family. That’s where I belong and who I want to be. My parents had everything, but they didn’t have that. That inclusivity. It just felt right, like home.”

“What about Bellamy? Clarke mentioned Bellamy Blake.”

“Marcus had been a friend I’d met through Jake at Stanford. When Clarke was in high school, Bellamy became his friend and protégé. We absorbed him into our pack soon after.”

“And Callie?”

“Callie and I—friends since we were fifteen. She was the wild one. She made my parents immensely uncomfortable. She was my first girlfriend, of course, and we’ve stayed close, and by that I mean she moved to San Jose after school, to keep an eye on me.”

“This is a good start,” said Raven, making tiny tugs through Abby’s hair, muted by holding above the tangle. “So FYI, Bell is O’s brother,” she said.

Abby laughed, shaking her head. The world is so small. “Okay, your turn.”

“I’ve told you most of it already.”

“Can’t get off that easy.”

“Wanna bet?”

Abby turned and took Raven’s hand. She kissed her fingers and gazed into her eyes. “This is us. You don’t have to deflect.”

Raven hesitated and looked down at their entwined fingers. She swept her thumb over Abby’s palm and gathered herself.

“A lot of the time I stayed with relatives and not-quite-relatives. Things were tight, and being the extra kid, I’d try to help out, like clean more and eat less. Sometimes eating less made me really whiny. Sometimes I stole food. Auntie Nygel would tell everybody, ‘a little bird is taking my bread.’ And when she caught me, she used a willow whip. It just wasn’t worthwhile to want things.”

“Honey.” Abby leaned her forehead into Raven’s.

“And I guess I decided I’d be picking my own family when I grew up.”

“So when I—”

“When you offered what I wanted, when you decided you were family— I couldn’t want that, and you couldn’t tell me who my family was. My wiring’s a mess.”

“What do you think now? Do I rate?”

“You so rate. You totally rate. God, I’m such an ass. Be my fam, will ya fam?”

“I would love to— and I think you could use a brush by now,” said Abby, the rising sun striping her face.

“Coffee’s worn off. I could nap now,” said Raven.

“Soon. But first, I’d really like, as a member of the family, to tender my offer to buy the unit above yours and another one on the first floor. Maybe for a clinic, if we can jump through the necessary hoops. If you’ll accept my offer, we should approach Clarke and Lexa.”

“Can I cautiously say I’m interested?”

“I won’t have all the money until I sell the house, so yes, be as cautious as you need.”

“This is my first time, so be gentle.”

“First time.” Abby raised an eyebrow.

“Financial involvement. It’s a level of intimacy I’ve never yet imagined.”

“You can’t even say that with a straight face.”

“Babe, I can’t do anything with a straight face.”

And Abby wrapped her arms around Raven and kissed her.

 

By eleven, the rain had stopped, and clouds skidded across the sky. The wind started, stopped, changed direction, and started again. Shards of blue gathered into patches, then expanses. And still, the wind picked up, stilled, and gusted again.

Raven called the boat charter.

“Gina’s willing to go, but we’ll have to go back in if it gets much worse, so know what you want to do and say and then do it.”

Clarke and Abby exchanged glances.

“I can do that,” said Abby.

“Works for me,” said Clarke.

Abby and Clarke dressed in subdued dresses, navy for Clarke and black for Abby. Lexa wore an unstructured suit with pegged trousers and heels. On a boat. Raven dug out her old dress whites. It felt a little fake, but okay.

What wasn’t fake was the box of ashes. Nothing pretty. A cardboard box, slightly gritty on the outside.

Spray raised goosebumps on all of them as the boat chugged head-on into waves. The mainland lay to port, the island to starboard. Gusts rippled the water still, but the whitecaps were fewer. Gina brought them to a relatively protected spot, far enough out that there wouldn’t be official trouble, and held them there.

Abby stood at the transom and zipped open the box. She took a deep, quiet breath in. Steady and unraveling all at once. She kept breathing until she could focus on the horizon through the tears she had no idea she was shedding. They were as silent as her heart, as the three women standing with her, waiting for her to speak.

“I have held these ashes near me for a year, and it’s time to let them go. It’s really hard because holding on is probably my oldest habit. But Jake would say, ‘Let go, Abby, let it go.’ All this week he’s been coming to me in my dreams and saying ‘Let it go, Abby, let me go.’

“Jake was good at moving forward. When his ACL tore, he shifted from soccer to engineering with barely a hesitation. Three days after we decided to get married, we got married. Clarke’s birth spurred him to work at home. He just embraced the new. He just embraced his world and all of us— sorry— who were lucky enough to be part of it.

“We don’t have a lot of time—” Abby closed her eyes. “Jake came from an incredibly lovely pair of parents who welcomed me the first time they met me. They passed to him their generosity. And he passed it to me.

“I miss him. I will always miss him. But I know he’d love to see us all here together. He’d love to see this family, our family, as part of his legacy.

“Clarke?”

“He bailed me out of jail when I was seventeen. Never said a thing. Just put his arms around me and squeezed— Can we do this now?”

And they all looked at one another. Abby nodded.

Each dipped her hand into the box and drew out a handful of cremains. Raven found the texture disturbing, all shards and grit, with some lightweight ash drifting about her hand.

Clarke counted down, “Three, two, one, go!”

“Jake! Be free! I release you!” shouted Abby.

They released the ashes over the transom. The lightest bits floated, catching the breeze, hovering for a few moments, then swooping and diving. The shards and grit sank toward the water’s surface, then, caught, tripped steeply upward and fell again.

They reached into the box again. Again, Clarke counted down. At the signal their fingers released.

And the wind shifted.

A flimsy wall of dust and ash flew up in front of them, hesitated, and whipped each of them in the face.

Grit. Grit in the eyes, grit in the nose, and yes, grit in the mouth. _Jake_. _Jake_ in the eyes, nose, and mouth. Not to mention the dress whites.

Raven brushed away what she could, but the sea spray made it stick to her skin.

A sound, unreal, filled Raven’s ears. A closed-lip scream. Raven and Abby looked at each other wide-eyed. Lexa’s shoulders shook. But the scream came from Clarke.

Abby pulled out a handkerchief, because of course she had a handkerchief, and started removing Jake from Clarke’s face.

Raven shrugged her shoulder into her sleeve and used the cuff to clean her own face, then the other cuff for Lexa’s. Raven realized that Lexa’s shoulders shook not with horror but with stifled laughter.

“No!” Raven mouthed at Lexa, but Abby saw her and burst out laughing herself. Clarke shook and wept, but the moment she opened her mouth, the intake of air ignited her smoldering hysteria.

Gina called over her shoulder, “You guys okay?” because by then, all four of them were shrieking hilariously. Abby pulled more ashes out of the box and flung them in a giant arc, careless of where they landed. Clarke howled and followed suit.

“Do it! It’s hilarious!” Clarke urged Lexa.

Abby gestured to Raven. The corners of Raven’s mouth turned down, but the corners of her eyes turned up. She plunged her hand into the box and scattered a fistful.

Abby took the box and upended it over the side of the boat.

“Oh my god, my hair!” she yelped. The others bent over and did what they could to scrub the ashes from their scalps.

 

The wind and rain picked up steadily all the way back into the moorage. As they bumped through squall after squall, the rain poured down their faces and clothes, washing Jake first to the deck and eventually overboard. Returning upwind, smashing through the waves, and the drenching rain made time stretch and thin. Lexa removed her heels and wrapped an arm around Clarke. Raven crossed to Abby and laced their fingers together. Abby took her other hand, drew her close, and said into her ear, “Thank you.”

Raven pulled slightly away. Her thumb traced a streak of ash off of Abby’s mouth.

Gina threw a line to a young man on the dock, then made the boat fast.

“Can I get you a drink?” said Raven. “You were pretty heroic out there.”

“Let me get you all a drink. Luna picks up my tab now.”

“Wait, Luna? And you?”

“Yes. And?”

“And take us for a drink. Please, ma’am.”

 

Raven arranged to meet Gina at Luna’s after they had showered and changed. The bar was comfortable, not too brightly lit, and shrimp were on happy hour special.

“Jake liked bourbon. Can you get good bourbon here?” said Abby.

“I think we can arrange that,” said Gina.

Luna appeared momentarily with a bottle of Bulleit and four glasses with a wedge of ice frozen into the bottoms.

“Ice?” Raven hissed under her breath.

“Hush,” said Abby.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” said Luna, “This is on the house.”

“Thanks, Babe,” said Gina.

“Thank you,” said Raven.

After Luna had gone, Abby said, “You are a giant snob,” a hand on Raven’s knee.

“I am a giant ball of awesome,” said Raven, smiling and pouring around. “Two fingers or three, Clarke?”

Lexa colored.

“Three," said Clarke, a challenge in her eyes, "That first one is so small.” But it was Lexa who drank it.

“It’s pretty,” said Abby.

“It is pretty,” said Lexa.

“To Dad,” said Clarke.

“Dad,” they chorused.

“Jake would have loved this. He was a bourbon with a big block of ice guy,” said Abby, “and I think he would have loved you two.” She gestured at Raven and Lexa. “He would have loved his ashes in our face.”

“Mouths, Mom. Mouths. I will never forget that sensation.”

“We buried my mother’s ashes in an urn,” said Lexa. “Very sanitized. Clinical even. I could not feel a thing.”

Clarke covered Lexa’s hand. Abby and Raven drew back slightly.

“I’m so sorry, Baby,” said Clarke.

“It is fine, she could not feel a thing, either.”

“I like your style, Lady,” said Raven, pouring again.

Seven different shrimp dishes arrived at the table. Raven set to. Abby laughed.

“I’m sorry, I just. Can not. Get enough shrimp!”

Clarke said, “Dad used to call them ‘Sea Cock-a-roaches.’”

“These li’l mothers are pure protein, I’ll have you know.”

“And the fried ones taste just like chicken,” said Gina.

“He loved shrimp— but they _are_ bottom dwellers,” said Clarke.

“And he never let anyone forget that,” said Abby, “Mr. Precision.”

“Oh my god,” said Clarke, “that Thanksgiving, when he kept calling the blue cheese ‘that moldy coagulation’? Everybody turned green. He just had more.”

“Yes, he’d go to the pool, take a lap, and come up commenting about the slight nose of urine amid the powerful tang of chlorine.”

“Abby, stop. Please, guys, I am eating!”

“Another?” said Abby, gesturing at Raven’s glass.

“Just like a smidge more,” she said.

“Clarke? Lexa? Gina?”

“Just top me up,” said Gina.

“I have had plenty,” said Lexa.

“God no,” Clarke said, “but maybe I’d look at the dessert menu.”

“Get the sampler, it’s incredible,” said Gina.

Raven looked down the dessert menu. _How many different ways can you have sweetened condensed milk?_

“I love _dulce de leche_ ,” she said.

“You’re an ass, Rae, but you’re ours, and we love you,” said Gina.

“I love you, too, Gina. You’re a lady and a gentleman,” said Raven.

When dessert had come and gone, Abby perused the table, then leaned back, eyes glittering.

“When were you going to tell us?” she asked Clarke.

“When what?” said Clarke.

“I’m giving you this chance, kiddo. Take it.”

“I don’t know, the wedding?”

“Wait, what?” said Raven. Then the pieces fell into place.

“Holy crap, Clarke. Is it Finn’s?”

“I uh, what? Yes. No! It’s ours.”

“Guys, Luna needs some help, um, I’ll see ya? Condolences. And uh, congrats?”

“See ya, Gina,” said Raven. Everybody else held their breath.

Raven made a whistling noise, then an exploding noise, with her mouth. _Ka-boom._

“Clarke,” said Abby, “a wedding _and_ a baby!” She turned to Raven. “I’m gonna be a _grandma_!”

“ _I’m_ gonna be a grandma, what’re you talking about?” said Raven.

“Only if you want to be,” said Lexa, “but better you than my mother.”

“Is this a proposal?” said Abby.

“You’re not going to go for another run, are you?”

 

Abby leaned in to Raven and Raven leaned in to Abby. They drew together and locked, a binary star, and Raven’s mind, usually firing and spiraling, jettisoned into freefall.

 


	8. Departures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vacation, inevitably, comes to an end. And a beginning.

Abby’s gaze grazed over the palm outside Raven’s window. The grey ribbed trunk gave way about fifteen feet up to smooth green and its golden flower before its branches spilled their fronds across the sky.

 _This is it,_ thought Abby, watching Raven sleep, _you know how this ends. People leave, people die._ She had another six hours. Then sixteen hours or so home, and six days to wind up her life. _Be realistic. Six weeks. Six months._

Raven coughed in her sleep, opened her eyes. Their focus sharpened.

“Watching me sleep? That means you got it bad?”

Abby tipped her head.

“God, you’re beautiful.” Raven slid her hand behind Abby’s neck and pulled her in for a kiss. Which turned into many.

Raven leaned back, slightly apart, slightly out of breath. “I’m gonna say this real fast so I’ve said it, then we can ignore it: _Don’t go. Stay here with me_. Okay, nevermind.”

Abby smiled a small, warm smile. She gazed into Raven’s eyes. “I have to go so I can get back to you. I will be back, you know.”

“I said nothing. Come here.”

And they connected. Lips, hands, legs, their entire bodies becoming one, as though every part of each of them was absorbing everything possible of the other, as though they were making an internal imprint to hold for however long they had apart.

“Raven,” said Abby, when Raven’s breathing had slowed, “I want you to look at me. See what I see every day.”

Raven opened her eyes. “You’re beautiful,” she murmured.

“I’m at least twenty-five years older than you. I’m trying to stay fit, but it’s harder and harder. Soon I won’t be able to keep up with you. I color my hair. I have lines and wrinkles. Stretch marks. People will mistake us for mother and daughter...”

“Wait, are you trying to break up with me?”

“Honey, no. I just want you to imagine what our future together could look like. I mean, I could lose interest in sex. Is there enough else between us?”

Raven’s eyebrows pinched together. “Don’t.”

“I’ve never fallen for anyone this fast before. I really want your eyes wide open.”

“I’m looking right at you, and you’re the love of my life.”

“Does this look like I’m pulling away?” Abby pressed her lips behind Raven’s ear.

“Okay, no. It seems like something weird’s going on— and I’d rather not get distracted.” Raven rolled out of bed, braced up, and disappeared into the shower.

Abby closed her eyes. She hadn’t meant to make it messy. Her gut mirrored the humidity inside and out, the stillness in the air. Abby knew all about feeling deserted. She hated feeding Raven’s own sense of abandonment, but if she was about to upend her safe, conventional life, Abby needed to pierce Raven’s infatuation. Shit was getting real. She had to know how real.

Raven emerged from the shower, dripping, dressing as quickly and as chastely as possible in the tiny room. She didn’t make eye contact with Abby, or any contact for that matter. She shook the water out of her ears and toweled the water from her hair. She made a wet braid. Then Raven looked up.

“I need coffee. Join me out there?”

Abby nodded. “Be there soon.”

She went up to her room.

She showered and changed and threw her stuff in her knapsack. She checked that her ticket and passport were in the outside pocket. She lay Raven’s jeans and shirt on the bed and her boots on the floor nearby.

A sudden gust of air blustered through her window, dropping the temperature several degrees. The sky darkened. More wind whipped the wet hair across her face. Lightning sliced the clouds.

Breath took effort. _This is it. Or it’s not._ She couldn’t decide whether to bring the knapsack. Thunder shook the window in its frame. She left the knapsack where it was and took the stairs.

Raven handed her a cup of coffee. “Continental breakfast? Or something more substantial?”

“Coffee’s fine. And I see what you’re doing. Can we just talk a bit before Clarke and Lexa join us?”

“Nothing to talk about. You did your thing, we had a fling, you’re going home. Story of my life.”

A downpour engulfed all other sound for a few moments, then moments later let up.

Abby took in a breath. She stifled her impulse to wrap her arms around Raven. But she held that impulse in her heart until it bubbled out of her in soft laughter. “You ridiculous goofball,” she said, “I love you. I want to be with you. Look. Read my lips.” And she mouthed “I...Love...You...” stupidly, embarrassingly, with enormous hackneyed hand gestures.

Raven’s mouth twitched.

“Ah. There you are,” said Abby, “There’s my girl.”

“If you think I’m unaware of the differences in our ages, you’re not as smart as you let on.”

“Honey, I just need you to be sure.”

“I could get hit by a car, and you’d end up caring for _me_. Have you considered that?”

Abby retreated in an instant.

“Sorry,” gasped Raven, “That was a shit example. But still.”

Lightning flashed again, then thunder rattled the potted plants.

Shrieks and giggles escaped the upstairs room.

“They’re up,” they said, as one.

“What time is it?” said Abby.

“Nine-ish,” said Raven, “Gives us about an hour before I gotta drive you to the airport.”

Abby blanched. Her stomach dropped.

“Those two can get their own breakfast. Come walk with me?” said Abby.

Raven nodded. Abby stretched out her hand, and of course Raven took it. They slipped through the front gate and slid it shut.

“You know it’s about to pour again, right?”

“When isn’t it? Show me again where we’re going to build the footbridge?”

“Here. The easement starts just left of that light pole and goes ten feet further left. It’s gonna be a crazy big deal to get the permit, though, and crazy expensive, so.”

“We could start with a crosswalk. And signage.”

“You say the nicest things.”

“I have certain skills.”

“Mm. You do.”

Abby faced Raven and took both of her hands.

“We make a good team. I think we can make it work. I’d like to make it work.”

“So how old are you?”

Abby whispered a number in her ear.

“Nah... that’s only twenty-four years. We good.”

Distant lightning lit the clouds, and the expected sheets of rain dropped out of the sky upon them.

“It’s the flood! Let’s get inside!” yelled Raven. She ran, pulling Abby behind her.

Inside, Abby stopped short and grasped Raven’s other hand. Their eyes met. The corners of Abby’s eyes and mouth crinkled. Raven pulled her close and kissed those crinkles. Then she kissed Abby’s mouth. She took some time.

“How did you sneak into my heart?” murmured Raven.

“I walked right through the gate,” said Abby.

“We’re running out of time.”

“I’m going to reschedule for the late flight.”

“You’re supposed to say ‘We have all the time in the world.’”

“Come with me,” said Abby.

“And leave… all this?” Raven spun around.

Abby smiled. “Not for long.”

Abby leaned her forehead against Raven’s, breathing in her air, breathing in her. _This girl,_ she thought _, this woman. This brilliant, hilarious goofball, this sexy, sad, sarcastic mechanic has demanded her surrender._ “Raven,” she said. “Honey,” she said.

The next thunder they heard was two pairs of sandals clattering down the front stairs, accompanied by laughter.

When she saw Raven and Abby, Clarke stopped short. Lexa nearly crashed into her.

“Luna’s has a breakfast buffet, wanna go?”

Raven looked at Abby. Abby barely perceptibly turned her head, but Raven caught it.

“Raven,” said Lexa, “what would you think about our staying for another week or so?”

***

Although tourists filled the waterfront, they hadn’t come from the airport. The floors, deserted, mirror-polished, blared the reflection of the fluorescent lights. The only distinguishing feature was the deep green-blue of the Caribbean out the windows. The interior temperature and humidity nearly equaled the exterior. Sweat dripped down Raven’s forehead and into her eyes. Internally she fought herself, but she could not slack her grasp on Abby’s hand.

“I’m sorry, there is only one seat available on the 4:35 flight.”

Abby turned to Raven, wheels unmistakably turning in her head.

Raven shook her head. “I should really stay here. We both know that.”

Abby pressed her lips together. Her nostrils flared slightly. She turned back to the agent. “All right, I’ll take it.”

A lump rose in Raven’s throat. _So this is it, then. This is how it ends. A reprieve of four hours, then— unknown._ She dropped Abby’s hand as if it had suddenly scorched her.

_Since she’d been small, she’d tried to be the one who left first. At once she became that small child, gently removed— though it felt as though she’d been ripped— from the only home she’d known. The known horror— the predictable filth and unpredictable food, light, water, the unpredictable presence or even consciousness of her mother— the known being preferable in that moment to the unknown._

Raven shrunk inside herself, became tiny, weak, cold, in that sweltering terminal.

“Raven? Honey? Are you okay?”

Slogging her way back to the present, Raven blinked, then replied, “What? Of course. I’m awesome.”

Abby tucked her new ticket into her knapsack. “What do you want to do for four hours?”

 _Handcuff you to me_ , thought Raven, but what she said was, “How about a drive around the island? Or part of it, anyway?”

“That would suit me very well,” said Abby.

Raven eyed the sky as the two of them emerged from the terminal. She sniffed the air. Strong sun. Breeze. For once, almost no clouds. When they got to the Rover, she put the roof down.

“You might need one of these,” she said, handing Abby one of the elastics from her wrist. Abby nodded solemnly and put her hair back.

They rode toward the center of town, then continued across to the windward side.

The sea, missing from view for a time, loomed in front of them, as did the prow of a ship, steered by a pirate.

“A pirate?” said Abby.

“Yep. He was gone for a while, but he’s back now.” Raven turned the corner. “The wind gets intense over here,” she yelled, accelerating.

“That sign said 50 kph!” Abby held onto Raven’s shoulder— and the door.

“Did it?” Laughter burst out of Raven, and Abby couldn’t help but laugh with her. Full throttle seemed to be their only speed. The sun and the wind and the speed, the Rover’s power and grip filled Raven to overflowing, and she turned to look at Abby, who had turned to look at her in the same instant. Raven lifted an eyebrow, double-clutch downshifted, and revved up to 80 mph.

Abby pressed back into her seat, letting her eyes close, feeling the speed of the wind on her face, the vibrations of the vehicle, hearing the roar of the car mixed with the roar of the ocean. She breathed deeply. This island. _This girl, this woman_.

The Rover slowed somewhat, and Abby opened her eyes. There was a fork in the road ahead.

“Feel like taking a walk?”

Abby nodded, and Raven proceeded more slowly down the left fork until she stopped and paid a fee. After that, it was more of a track than a road, but passable by car.

“Up ahead it gets too narrow. We’ll have to park and walk.”

Abby smiled.

Raven crawled the Rover over the rocky path. She pulled in next to a rusted Jeep.

“Never rent one of those things. They don’t maintain them properly,” Raven said.

Wind and spray buffeted them as they got out of the Rover. They stood on either side of the vehicle for a moment staring at the horizon, staring at each other.

“Come on,” said Raven, extending her hand. Abby took it, of course.

They walked, hand in hand, over the sand and rocks. The sensation of Raven’s fingers in her palm washed through the sensations of wind and water darting against her skin.

The lighthouse popped out around a bend.

“It’s a tourist thing, but I like it here. Mornings, hardly any tourists have found it yet. They get bogged down at _Señor Iguana’s_. By now there’ll be some, though.”

They walked out past the lighthouse and the museum toward the beach.

“There’s sometimes crocodiles and flamingoes on the other side of the road. You can see them from the lookout. Do you want to climb the lighthouse?”

“Maybe in a little bit. I’d just like to sit here with you.”

They sat on a large boulder, looking out at the sea. Abby wrapped herself around Raven and breathed her in, breathed in the salt, breathed in the unbridled wind.

“I’m so lucky,” she said into Raven’s ear. Raven turned and kissed her.

His breath lifted the hair on her head. Unsteady, the man shouted from way too close, “I’d do the both of you for free!” Abby startled, shifting her body apart, but Raven turned to face him, murder in her eyes. Abby’s hand found its way to the small of Raven’s back. It helped her pause until the drunk staggered away.

Ugly, familiar rage and anguish swamped Raven, freezing her insides and drenching her skin. Abby continued pressing into Raven’s low back, even though she was working hard to calm herself. It had been a long time, a very long time, but the sensation, the violation was the same.

Abby dragged herself out of all the moments with Callie, all the moments with the other girls, when some overprivileged man, and it was always a man, decided he had the right to police them, to terrorize them. It had been over twenty years, but it remained the same. She choked down the rising bile.

“If he’d so much as touched you…” Raven growled.

“He didn’t touch me. We’re okay. You’re okay.”

“You’re okay?” Raven shifted to look into Abby’s eyes.

“A little shaken, but okay,” said Abby.

“I don’t wanna have to put the brakes on in public with you. Sometimes I just need to kiss you.”

“Things are getting better. But there are still some bad actors out in the world. It would probably be a good idea to look out for them,” Abby sighed. Raven caught her scanning the surroundings.

“Tourists are mood-killers,” said Raven. “You wanna get outta here?”

“If we do, he wins. Let’s go climb some stairs. It’ll dissipate the adrenaline.”

“Lighthouse or Lookout?”

“Maybe both. I haven’t used the stair-climber in a week.”

“We got time.”

Abby checked the time. “Not a lot. Just the lighthouse, then.”

***

The view, the sensations, the waves and spray— Abby had thought she understood Raven’s attachment to the place, despite the ships, despite the tourists— or maybe because of them— but now she felt her own heart sticking, a little, to the turquoise water, foreboding sky, sun, rain, wind. It had stuck a lot to Raven and her Inn. And leaving— well, it had to be done. She glanced at Raven. Who was staring at her.

“We should start back, probably.”

“Yeah,” said Raven. “Around the south end of the island? Or back the way we came?”

“Let’s keep moving forward,” said Abby.

“That’s the only way with you.”

They returned to the Rover. Raven rolled back to the park entrance and got on the coastal highway. As Raven eased the Rover into high gear, Abby took her hand from the shift. She traced Raven’s lifeline with her thumb.

They let the sound of the wind and the sea fill the silence between them. They let the silence between them say everything.

“Heading into upscale resorts now,” said Raven, after a bit.

“Mmm,” said Abby.

“Inn’s a little farther. Anything you need there?”

“Just Clarke and Lexa.” Abby smiled.

Raven pulled up at the Inn and sounded her horn. “I wish—” she started, then wrinkled her brow, “I wish I could build a time machine. So I could relive this past week over and over.”

Abby gave her a look. “By yourself? Wouldn’t it be nicer to go forward, together? Let’s keep moving forward.”

Clarke and Lexa joined them. Lexa loaded luggage into the back.

“Decided not to stay?” said Raven.

“We’ve reconsidered,” said Lexa.

“Cool cool,” said Raven. “But I gotta say, it’s been awesome having you all here.”

“Raven’s gonna miss us,” sang Clarke.

“Your mom, I’ll miss your mom.”

“And me,” said Lexa.

“Yeah, alright maybe Lexa, but just because you’re such a business genius, and I need the free advice.”

“Raven, you should come with us,” said Clarke.

“Nah. There wasn’t a seat left, anyway.”

It wasn’t far to the airport. Raven pulled up to the departures drop area and got out. She unloaded the luggage and handed it to Lexa. The knapsack she held onto. Clarke and Lexa hugged her and Abby and went into the terminal, leaving the two of them alone.

“Hey,” said Raven.

“Hello,” said Abby, taking the knapsack. But Raven wouldn’t let it go.

“Sorry. Um. I can’t. It’s stuck.”

“Will this unstick it?” Abby took Raven’s jaw in her hand and brought their lips together. Inner lip slipped against inner lip. Tongue touched tongue.

“Unstuck something for sure,” said Raven. “I— this never— you—” and after checking her surroundings, she kissed Abby again. Catching her breath, Raven rumbled in Abby’s ear, “You just better come back.” She swallowed. “Please.”

“Oh? Will you hunt me down?” Abby lifted her eyebrow, tilting Raven’s head so that she could gaze into her eyes. “You know I will,” Abby whispered. She pressed her face to Raven’s. One tear slipped down her nose and into Raven’s mouth.

Raven savored the future. The moment suspended. Then another. Raven looked into Abby’s eyes.

“I believe you.”

Lexa ran out the terminal door, calling, “Abby!”

“Lexa?”

“You should go,” said Lexa.

“Yeah, you should,” said Raven, “so you can come back to me.”

“I love you, Honey. May we meet again. Soon.”

“Yeah, okay, see ya.” But Raven wrapped her arms around Abby. “I love you, too.” And she released her.

“Take care of my wife and child,” said Lexa.

Abby turned toward her. “Lexa?” she said.

“I rescheduled this morning. So there was a seat left for you. I have some more free advice for Raven. If she will take it.”

***

It wasn’t easy to wake up alone. It wasn’t easy, or cheap, to start the citizenship process, to learn better Spanish, to learn regional and national history and civics. It wasn’t easy, it wasn’t cheap, to hire local contractors to install spiral staircases into five of the up-and-down pairs of rooms— and a lift into one, to wire them all for the best available internet, to finish and furnish each suite. It wasn’t easy hiring Echo as general manager and letting her take over operations, and it wasn’t easy accepting Luna’s offer to invest, but it kept Raven busy, and it kept her— and the Inn— afloat.

Of what had become six suites, four were owned and would be occupied by family and one by Luna and Gina— who might become family in time. Lincoln and Octavia took a couple of weeks off and came home to help alongside the local men and women. Octavia beamed and Lincoln’s eyes shone when they saw the changes Lexa had suggested. They immediately wrapped Lexa into the family.

The best available internet access had topped the priority list for Raven’s nightly Skyping with Abby and Lexa’s with Clarke. It was taking longer than anticipated to get Abby’s position filled and trained and her house cleared out.

***

Every item in the house ticked like a bomb for Abby. Around every corner, through every doorway, stood another reminder of her decades with Jake, Clarke’s childhood, the white light of the unknowable future, the sudden impact of the unexpected. She sold so much stuff. She gave away so much more. And still more remained.

The last time she’d spun on her heel and made a huge departure from the direction she’d been heading was— well, when she’d fallen for Jake, so. _So it wasn’t all that much of a departure then, was it?_

Skyping nightly with Raven cast the line that hooked her to her newest path, anchored her to the present, and helped her know what to keep and what to throw back. And yet, Abby’s heart crumbled a little every time they spoke.

On their calls, Raven sometimes seemed distant, sometimes overwhelmed. However, Raven persevered. Her belief in their future never wavered. And she’d relinquished control, maybe for the first time since she was tiny, to do what needed doing. Letting Lexa, letting Luna, letting Echo help— all were giant leaps for Raven.

***

“Mom, just let us buy it,” said Clarke, after the donation truck rolled away. “Win-win.” Her belly pressed into Abby, but her arms could hardly reach her.

“Please, Abby,” said Lexa, entering the room, “You will not regret it.”

“When did you get back?” Abby went to Lexa and embraced her.

“Just now,” said Raven, popping out from behind Lexa. “C’mon, whaddya say? Motivated buyers. Nice accessory dwelling out back for grammy visits. And oh, yeah— ” Raven got down on one knee. She held out a small box. “I’d like you to marry me. Would you? Marry me? We could have a double wedding slash christening, get a group rate at Luna’s, win-win.”

_Jake’s sparkling blue eyes hovered above Raven’s for a few moments as the rest of him appeared. “It’s what you do, y’know. Love.” Abby took a breath. He was right, as always. From her patients to her daughter to her husband, and now, Raven, she’d never known how to stop loving. Even when it hurt. Even when it shocked and rocked her system. Step back, find the love, the compassion, move forward. Her eyes crinkled, and so did his. And he vanished, the crinkles at his eyes going last._

Abby examined the ring, sniffed her approval, and put it on. It fit perfectly.

She looked from Clarke and Lexa to Raven. “It’s perfect,” she said.

“I might have had a little help,” said Raven.

Abby smiled, then nodded.

“Win-win,” she said.

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
